


Refugee

by krysalys



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Episode Related, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:09:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysalys/pseuds/krysalys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unexpected visitors arrive that somehow have ties with the SGC. It's up to the Atlantis crew to figure out what's going on even as they prepare for the Wraith invasion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mice/gifts).



13:30 pm

“What the hell?”

Dr. Elizabeth Weir wrenched her head around towards the source of the startled exclamation. Her question froze upon her lips as she realized what exactly had caught Peter Grodin’s attention.

The Gate was active.

The symbols were whirling around more quickly than she’d ever seen. The first chevron locked mere moments before the second one, and the rest followed in rapid succession before the Gate erupted into brilliant life.

Elizabeth wasn’t even able to move a step before the surface of the portal was violently disturbed; two figures hurtled through it, one falling immediately while the other stumbled and continued staggering backwards.

The one still standing was screaming at the top of… her… lungs.

“Feche, você bastardo! _Feche!!!_ ” The woman desperately flung out a hand crackling with energy, pointing at the Gate and making wild gestures. She fell to one knee, wild yet dripping hair slapping against her back as she continued screaming. 

“FECHE, CABRÃO!!!”

Elizabeth blinked and shook herself out of her startled daze. She slapped the Com and snapped “Security! We have a breach in the Gate room!” And she realized that the Gate claxon had only just begun to wail. “Somebody get the damned shield up!”

Everyone in the control room was scrambling about, trying to determine what was going on. Elizabeth merely rushed towards the closest balcony overlooking the Gate room to get a better look at the intruders.

The fallen one looked to be male… a human, she noted absently. The one still screaming in what sounded like French… or Spanish, she wasn’t entirely sure… was a human female. Both were dressed in filthy rags, and were liberally covered in what looked like blood and mud. The male lay where he’d fallen, unmoving and looking quite dead. He had some sort of spear sticking out of his upper back.

Elizabeth’s observations were interrupted as additional military personnel rushed into the Gate room with weapons at the ready.

At the same time, two other things happened. The wormhole began to destabilize, and…

Two figures stepped through the portal. Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she choked back a cry.

They looked like Egyptian gods. They were firing weapons that looked like staffs with large bulbs split into fourths on the ends.

“Goa’uld?” Elizabeth murmured huskily.

The woman in front of the Gate bellowed in fury and terror, and bolted for her fallen comrade. One of the bolts of energy from the new intruders clipped her in the left shoulder, and was spun around by the force of it as she wailed out in pain. But that didn’t seem to stop the desperate woman, as she scrambled to her companion, yanked the spear out of his back and attacked the nearest creature.

The guards recognized that the woman was disgustingly outmatched, and opened fire.

The Portal continued to destabilize as one of the Jaffa was forced back through it from the ferocity of the woman’s charge. The other one actually cocked its head to the side a little as bullets ricocheted off of its body armor, and it calmly raised its staff weapon and returned fire with a low rumbling growl.

Two of the guards fell screaming, and the others focused their fire on their foe. The creature fell back a couple of steps until it was flush against the shimmering wormhole, and turned to the woman, who was now trying to awkwardly impale it with the bloodied spear. It smacked the weapon easily from her hands and made as if to grab her by the throat one-handed.

She had none of it, darted in under his arms and punched him in the groin.

Strangely enough, it worked, and the Jaffa stumbled backwards…

Just as the Gate's energy shield snapped shut.

Most of the creature’s head, left arm and leg crashed to the floor, severed, while its body was vaporized by the wormhole.

The guards ceased fire immediately, and an eerie silence fell upon the Gate room.

Elizabeth blinked, and realized that one of the men down in the Gate room was Major John Sheppard. He looked around in mute bewilderment. Who’d activated the Gate, and what the hell had just happened?

The woman wobbled on her feet as the wormhole blinked out, and finally seemed to notice her surroundings. She staggered beside her companion, her face white as a sheet under the thick layers of blood and dirt encrusting it.

“Onde o inferno são nós?”

She fainted.

 

Elizabeth snapped out orders to her people, and the control room erupted into controlled chaos.

“I want a medical team in the Gate room pronto!” she shouted over the bustle. Major Sheppard had hustled over to the fallen intruders and was checking them for signs of life, while his men fanned out around the room to secure it.

Elizabeth ran down to the Gate room floor once Lieutenant Ford had cleared it.

“Are they alive?” she asked Sheppard breathlessly. From behind her she heard the medical team entering the area, and she stepped aside to allow them more room to work.

“The woman is, but barely,” John replied tersely. “The man…” he shook his head.

Elizabeth’s face fell. Even though she didn’t know these strangers, it still was a blow to find that one had died trying to get to safety. Now it was her and her people’s job to determine who they were and what they were doing running from the Goa’uld. Not to mention how the hell they’d managed to override the Gate controls and safety measures.

“Out of the way!” Dr. Carson Beckett ordered tersely, and the few curious soldiers that had gathered around the Gate cleared a path for him. “What the devil happened here?” he demanded. When he saw the state of the people he’d been called to treat, he barked out “Caoch! Let’s move, people!” 

Carson and his team wasted no time, and whisked the man and woman off to the infirmary. The two soldiers that had been wounded by the Goa’uld’s staff weapons were not far behind.

“Beckett’s right, Elizabeth. What the hell happened?” Sheppard queried.

“Your guess is as good as mine, John,” Elizabeth replied. “The gate activated without warning. The alarm didn’t even go off until after those two came through it.”

Sheppard scowled as he followed her back up to the Gate’s Control Room. “This is definitely not the kind of surprise I like.”

Elizabeth nodded agreement. “Especially if it involves the Goa’uld,” she replied quietly. “We have enough on our hands as it is with the Wraith to have them joining the fun as well.”

“I’m posting a security detail in the medical wing until we have a better idea what’s going on.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I’d say that’s wise. We have no idea whether or not our guests are friendly.”

“Guess we’ll know soon enough,” Sheppard replied, and left to talk to Ford.

~+~

5 hours later

“So, I hear we have some unexpected guests in the infirmary.”

“I was wondering when I’d hear from you, Rodney.” Elizabeth sighed without moving her gaze from the computer screen.

“And when exactly were you going to tell me about them?” he shot back acridly.

“When you were finished debriefing from your latest mission,” she replied evenly.

“Ah, yes. That.”

Elizabeth finally turned to face her chief scientific advisor. “Yes, that,” she smiled. “How did it go?” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” he muttered as he kept from meeting her level, and now amused, gaze. He sprawled into the chair behind him and rubbed his face with one hand. “Let’s just say that what I first thought was a ZedPM turned out to be anything but.”

The corners of Elizabeth’s eyes crinkled. “But it is Ancient technology, yes?”

“Yep, that it is,” he sighed. “But damned if I know what it is. It sure as hell looked like a ZedPM.”

“Relax, Rodney,” Elizabeth soothed. “You can’t figure them all out right away.”

“It’s my job to figure them out right away,” he shot back irritably. “Anyway, I have Zelenka working on it now. I’d like to hear more about our visitors.”

“Not much to tell,” Elizabeth sighed a little. “Somehow they managed to activate the Stargate, bypass the shield, and shut it back down before too many of their pursuers followed them through.”

Rodney McKay’s eyes grew thoughtful. “Zelenka mentioned something about the woman having Goa’uld tech on her.”

Elizabeth nodded. “She had one of the ribbon devices on. Carson’s hoping you could take a look at it, since it seems to have been spliced with one of our GDO’s, as well as some other technology he's not sure about.”

Rodney’s eyes widened. “She has a Garage Door Opener? Did you get her ID code?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Unfortunately, it must have been damaged in the fight with the Jaffa, and Carson hasn’t been able to get it to work since.”

“Which is where I come in.” Rodney’s face firmed. He wearily hauled himself out of the chair and turned to leave.

“Rodney…” Elizabeth began, and he stopped and twisted around to look at her. “The woman hasn’t regained consciousness yet, and her companion died soon after they arrived. And I'm sure you haven't had much sleep lately either. So don’t go bothering Carson about her yet until you've had some rest too, all right?”

Rodney flashed her a devilish grin. “Why Elizabeth, perish the thought.” And he strode purposely from the room.

All Elizabeth could do was shake her head, and pray that Carson’s normally even temper would hold out in the face of Rodney’s insatiable curiosity.

~+~

“Hey Beckett, how’s the patient doing?” Rodney asked cheerfully as he entered the doctor’s office.

“Ah, good, Rodney. You’re here,” Dr. Carson Beckett replied wearily from where he was sitting behind his desk. “We got some technology here for the life of me I canna figure out.” He picked up the hand gear that his latest patient had been wearing when she was rushed to the medical wing. “It was covered in all sorts of filth, so I had it cleaned as best it could. Looks like the power supply was damaged. Hopefully you can make the little bugger work.”

Rodney strode over to take a closer look. “Elizabeth mentioned that this woman somehow spliced a GDO with the Goa’uld tech, but I didn’t believe her.”

“Well, see for yourself,” Carson handed the delicate looking devices over. “The GDO is set into this leather arm cuff, with the wiring connecting it to the Goa’uld hand devices running in between two layers. I wonder if she did the work herself?”

“If so, then she must be some sort of engineer,” Rodney replied absently as he studied the device with increasing interest. “Whoever did this has some mechanical aptitude.” He paused as a frown crossed his features. “Did you check either of them for ID?”

“Aye, I did,” Carson answered. “No dog tags, and if either of ‘em had been implanted with a chip, they dinna have it now. Although I found this interesting tidbit…” he indicated a small worn leather pouch lying on his desk.

Rodney picked it up, and the contents ‘clink’ed. He cocked a curious eyebrow at the doctor, and Carson shrugged.

“Take a look,” was all he said.

Rodney loosened the leather thong sealing the pouch shut, and tumbled about half a dozen sets of dog tags onto the palm of his other hand.

“The hell?”

Carson nodded. “My thoughts exactly,” he replied quietly. “Take a look at the names on ‘em.”

Rodney separated one set and read the name inscribed upon it. His stomach bottomed out. “Private Dennis Johanson.”

“Do you recognize the name?”

“Ah, yeah, I think so.” Rodney tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. “He was assigned to one of the SGC teams. Eight, I think. I'd worked with them once. He seemed like a good enough kid, for a Marine.”

A woman appeared in the doorway. “Doctor Beckett, she’s coming around.”

Carson cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “Strange. With her wounds I wouldn’a guessed she’d rouse so quickly.” He came around the desk and motioned for Rodney to follow him. Which he did, after dropping the dog tags and the pouch back on to the desk.

They entered the private room to witness the woman slowly blinking unfocused eyes. She had been cleaned up after she was stabilized, revealing long, silky hair so black it had a bluish tinge to it. The bone structure in her face was delicate, almost birdlike. Her skin was a reddish-golden, what wasn’t marred by bruising and various cuts, and her dark eyes slanted ever-so-slightly at the edges; revealing that she was more than likely of Native American descent.

Rodney faltered in his steps. There was something familiar about this woman… but… it couldn’t be…

“Doctor McKay?” Carson was beside the woman, checking her pulse. But his questioning gaze was fixed on his colleague. “Rodney, is everything all right?”

Rodney blinked. No, he was mistaken. “No. I mean… yes, everything’s fine.” He strode over to Carson’s side and watched the doctor check over the obviously confused and half-conscious woman. “She looks like someone I met.”

“Back on Earth?”

Rodney nodded, and then looked down at the device he was still holding in his hand. “I’m gonna go and check this thing out, Carson, if that’s okay? Let me know when she’s coherent enough to talk to. I’m sure I’ll have lots of questions for her about this thing.”

“You’re not the only one,” John Sheppard’s voice came from the doorway.

“Ah, Major,” Dr. Beckett greeted the other man. “Considering the extent of the lady’s injuries, I dinna expect her to be coherent enough for an interview for at least another day or so.”

“Is she at least human?” John asked, and the doctor nodded.

“Aye, she is. No modifications that I can ken, and no signs of an active symbiote, though it looks like she might have been a host at least once. We'll know more after the complete work-up. I am worried about some of her wounds, though. They look like they might’ve been self-inflicted.”

“How so?” Rodney asked.

Carson pointed to the back of the woman’s right shoulder, which was closest to him. “As you know, all SGC and Atlantis personnel were implanted with an identification chip in the muscle above their right scapula. She’s got a small incision scar in the exact same spot, which leads me to think she might originally be from Earth.”

“That makes no sense, Beckett,” John retorted. “Why would she be running around the universe all by herself?”

“No idea,” the doctor replied quietly. “For all I know, maybe she had a team, and the lad with her was all she had left. We'll know more about him too, once the autopsy's finished.”

“What about the rest of her injuries?” John asked.

“Well, first of all, she’s been shot with an energy weapon a few times, I’d say mostly in the past two weeks, with the most recent being here,” he touched the edge of the bandage wrapping the front of her left shoulder. “Otherwise, a few broken and cracked ribs, compound break of the radius and ulna in her left arm, fractured right femur and left collarbone, all sorts’a bruising, and multiple contusions to the head. She was beaten repeatedly, and there's evidence of electroshock and sexual assault, too." He paused for a moment at John's and Rodney's wince. "I doubt she’ll be able to make much sense’o anything anytime soon, as the concussion’s pretty severe. Fortunately, she only had to be intubated for a few hours while we stabilized her vitals. Now we’re concentrating on monitoring her round the clock to make sure there’s no undue swelling of her brain, as well as trying t’get her fever down. Some ‘o these wounds had gotten pretty badly infected.”

“Nana'tose.”

Everyone in the room looked down at the woman, whose eyes were now half-lidded. “What?” Rodney asked in bewilderment.

“Nana’tose,” the woman whispered huskily again, before her eyes drifted shut.

“Well, that made a lot ‘o bloody sense,” Carson muttered.

Rodney’s eyes had widened slightly. “I’d better get to work on this handset,” he murmured before he hurriedly brushed past Sheppard on his way out of the room.

“You’re excused,” Sheppard growled in irritation to Rodney’s quickly retreating back, but the scientist didn’t seem to hear him. The Major walked into the room and stood at the foot of the woman’s bed. “This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder, doc.”

“Tell me about it,” Carson replied with a furrowed brow.


	2. Chapter 2

14 Hours Later

 

Rodney McKay grinned in triumph. “HA!” he exclaimed to the empty room. “Gotcha!” He raised the now glowing GDO closer to his face as he squinted at the cracked readout. “Now, let’s see what you can tell me.”

He poked at a few relays before he was able to access the memory in the device. The scientist’s eyes widened at the wide array of Gate addresses the gadget had dialed, and he shook his head in amazement before continuing on his quest for the ID number unique to only that device.

Dr. Simpson was just entering the room, yawning and nursing a large thermos mug of coffee when Rodney’s tools dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers to the table with a clatter. “Holy shit,” he murmured.

“Doctor McKay?” the woman asked, cocking her head inquisitively. She strode over to his worktable. “Is everything all right?”

Rodney blinked. All of the color had drained out of his face, leaving quite a strange expression behind.

“McKay? Do you know what time it is?” Simpson asked, obviously wondering if her supervisor had ever gone home the night before and slept.

Which of course he hadn’t. Too much to do these days. You know, what with the Wraith coming en masse to slaughter them all within about… oh… a week or so now.

“It really _is_ her,” he murmured, seemingly not having noticed one of his scientists entering the room. “But… it’s impossible. She’s… she’s _dead_.”

“Doctor McKay?” Simpson was getting a little worried, and wondered if she should call a medical doctor into the lab. Her supervisor looked like he was going to be very ill.

Rodney suddenly looked up, Simpson’s presence finally making an impression on him. “Oh, Simpson, carry on… carry on,” he said distractedly. “Excuse me… need to see a man about a… yeah.”

He stood jerkily and made his way out of the lab, leaving a completely bewildered Simpson gaping at his back.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

“Carson!”

Doctor Beckett twisted around from where he was standing to the right of his latest patient, checking on her vitals. “Rodney? _Mo creach_ , man, you startled me!”

“Sorry,” Rodney fidgeted at the door, obviously worked up about something.

“Well, out with it, before you burst.”

“I got the device working again.” Despite having rushed to the medical wing, his face was still quite pale.

When Rodney failed to continue, Carson prodded him. “Well?”

“I do know her. From Stargate Command.”

“So she is one’a us,” Carson sighed a little, and leaned over the bed slightly to check the bandages on the woman’s shoulder.

“Dr. Jessica Monevata, to be exact.”

Carson’s brows furrowed. “Is that Spanish?”

Rodney moved into the room, still staring at Jessica as if he’d seen a particularly freaky ghost. “No. Cheyenne. Means ‘little bird’. Or something like that.”

Carson glanced up at his friend. “Ach, Rodney. She’s not gonna bite, you know.”

“You don’t understand,” Rodney snapped. “Her entire team was wiped out in a Goa’uld sniper trap almost three years ago. She’s supposed to be _dead_ , man.” He ran his free hand over his face. “The only reason they knew to seal off that particular Gate address was because Monevata threw one of the injured Marines through it before she tried to blow up the one on her side.”

Carson’s expressive eyes grew sad. “That was a very brave thing she did.”

“It’s what any of us are supposed to do if hostiles try to invade Earth through the Stargates,” Rodney sighed. He looked wrung out, his face tinged with gray. “She and the rest of SG-11 were presumed dead when they failed to check in at their fallback point as well as the Alpha site. And at the time it was too dangerous to send out teams looking for them.”

“You knew her well, then?”

Rodney shook his head and shrugged a little. “Only in passing,” he hedged. “She was a friend of Doctor Jackson’s, though. More than likely there’re people in Atlantis who’ll know her, too.”

“Well then, I’m glad that we’ve security here to make sure people just don’t barge in t’see her for themselves. Poor woman’s been through hell and back,” Carson replied with relief. “And I’m sure the rumor mill’s been working overtime since yesterday, too.”

Rodney snorted. He just didn’t get the whole gossip network thing. There was so much more interesting stuff to occupy oneself with than indulging in spurious speculation about others.

Carson’s eyes narrowed as he took in the deep shadows under his colleague’s eyes. “You don’t look like you’ve slept much. Why don’t you go and get some rest? I can let you know when she’s conscious, if you’d like.”

Rodney shook his head. “No, I’d better let Elizabeth know about this,” he replied as he raised the control handset, the weariness seeping into his tone. “Anyway, no time for sleeping now. We’ll have plenty of rest when we’re all dead.”

“Rodney…” Carson was getting right sick and tired of his friend’s Doubting Thomas attitude. It certainly wasn’t helping the morale of the people working under Rodney, that’s for bloody sure.

But the scientist shook off his friend’s protest and trudged out of the infirmary.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

Chestnut eyes cracked open, and Jessica Monevata blinked at the painfully bright lights above her. She stirred on the bed, trying to shift into a more comfortable position. When she realized that wasn't possible, as she was experiencing different kinds of pain all over, she stilled the rest of her body and took inventory of her surroundings.

Light source above. Unfamiliar. Definitely not on a Goa'uld ship or encampment.

Walls, a light shade of cream. Bed...

Definitely like the ones in the infirmary back home on Earth. _‘If only…’_ came the unbidden and unwelcome thought. Same lump right at the small of the back that makes you want to shoot the manufacturer, though...

Just then, an Asian woman walked into the room. Her dark hair was pulled back into a small bun at the nape of her neck, and she wore wire-rimmed glasses and a nurses' smock.

"Oh, hello there!" the woman greeted Jessica cheerily. "Good afternoon, Dr. Monevata! How are you feeling?"

"Nevaaahe...?"

The woman's eyebrows creased in confusion. "What?"

"Tosa'e...?" Jessica coughed a little, as her throat was horribly dry and scratchy.

The nurse moved to the one side of the bed and poured a partial glass of ice water. "Here, I'm sure your throat's a bit dry." She slowly moved the bed to a little more of a sitting position, and Jessica grunted as her head and entire body protested the movement. Loudly.

"I know you're most likely in a bit of pain at the moment," the woman spoke soothingly as she held the glass with a straw in it to Jessica's mouth. "We'll take care of that in a moment." Jessica took a few shallow sips and let go of the straw, then the cup was put down within reach of her uninjured arm and the bed lowered.

"Now, I'm sure you're full of questions, and we have quite a few for you too, young lady..."

"Tone'še eho'oesta?"

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Tone'še eho'oesta?" Jessica was starting to get really frustrated. What the hell was wrong with this woman?! Why couldn't she understand a simple question?

The nurse shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I only understand English and Japanese. Let me go get Doctor Beckett. I'll be right back." She quickly moved to the door of the room and leaned out into the hallway for a moment. When she didn't see who she was looking for, she stepped out of the room entirely and walked down to the main part of the infirmary.

Jessica was dumbfounded. What did that woman mean, she only understood English and Japanese? Wasn't that what she was speaking... English? She felt her thoughts begin to get fuzzy as consciousness started to slip away, and she fought to keep her eyes open. She wondered if it was all a dream, or some sort of hallucination. Maybe she was being tortured again, and this was her mind’s way of trying to protect itself.

But usually that involved Jessica being back at SGC’s infirmary, or even at her grandfather’s place back on the res, not this… odd place.

A minute later the nurse came back to the room with a stocky man in tow. "Here's Doctor Beckett, Doctor Monevata."

Carson smiled wearily at seeing his patient awake. "How are you feeling, lass?"

Jessica blinked. Ah, he was Scottish. Her eyes finally drifted shut, despite her attempts to keep them open, and she slipped back into a restless doze.

Carson came to his patient’s side and checked her out. “Well, at least she was able to stay awake for a little longer this time,” he commented to the nurse.

 The Next Day

Jessica could feel their hands all over her, hurting her. She fought back with everything she had. They weren’t going to take it!

Her gaunt body thrashed weakly on the bed, the alarms on the monitors alerting the staff to Jessica’s distress. Two nurses rushed to the bedside, as well as the doctor covering the night shift.

“Doctor Monevata? Jessica, you’re safe!” Dr. Price tried to calm the distraught woman, but she was still caught in the throes of her memory/nightmare. “I’m giving her a sedative,” he called over his shoulder to the one nurse, and injected the contents of a prepped syringe into the IV. “Make a note on her chart,” he advised as his patient slowly ceased her struggles.

8 Hours Later

Jessica’s eyes cracked open. _‘Hm, same cream paint,’_ she remembered, wondering if she was still hallucinating, and simultaneously cursing herself for hoping that it was real. _‘Oh, to be around my people for once,’_ she mourned.

“Dr. Monevata? Jessica?” Carson Beckett’s voice drifted through her befuddled haze. “How are you feeling now, lass?”

"Napevomohtahe?" She looked around and then down at herself, noting the prevalence of bandages, and realized that her left arm as well as her entire right leg was encased in a cast. "Na'ahtse," she murmured. "Eonenês˘eotse."

Carson blinked in confusion. "Dr. Monevata, Jessica, do you realize that you're not speaking English?"

Jessica frowned, only now realizing that she'd lapsed back into her native tongue. "Netsêhesenêstsehe?"

"I'm sorry lass, I dinna speak that language. What is it, Cheyenne?"

Jessica managed the barest of nods. "Heehe'e."

He frowned thoughtfully. "Do you think you can speak English?"

Jessica tilted her head to the side and huffed a little in impatience. "Nahene'ena." She scowled. "Oha... nasaatonê˘sevehe." She growled her impatience and looked pleadingly at Carson. "Nehvestâhemêstse?"

He smiled and patted her free hand. "It's all right, Jessica. More than likely this is temporary, from having your head knocked around so much. You've got a pretty severe concussion. Look, you just relax, and I'll check if any of our linguists can speak Cheyenne, okay? Otherwise, we'll just have to see if you can write in English." He rummaged around in his lab coat pockets, coming up with a small notepad and pen. "Here you go. Would you like to give it a whirl?"

The fragile looking woman slowly blinked. She tried to raise an arm, but it shook violently after only being lifted a couple of inches. She grunted in frustration as she felt the strength already fading along with her consciousness.

Carson watched Jessica closely, recognizing that his patient wasn’t strong enough yet to attempt much of anything. “Tis all right, lass. We’ll try again later today, all right?”

Jessica smiled in relief, and gave in to her body’s demands for sleep.

 

 

Che yenne

Nana'tose: I am cold.

še'šenovôtse: Snake

me'ko: Head

Tosa'e: Where?

Nevaaahe: Who?

Netonês˘eve: What are you doing?

Netsêhesenêstsehe: Do you speak/talk Cheyenne?

Heehe'e: Yes

ahtomonêstse: Listen! (said to one person)

Nea'es˘e: Thank you

Netonês˘evehe: What is your name?

Nehmetsêstse: Give it to me

Enaa'e: He died

Emâsêhanee'e: He is crazy/insane

Naovaxe: I dreamed

Napevomohtahe: I am fine

Ehavêseva'e: It is bad

Eonenês˘eotse: It is broken

na'ahtse: my arm (includes hand)

Tone's˘e eho'oesta?: What time is it?

Nahene'ena. Oha... nasaatonê˘sevehe: I know it. But... I'm not doing anything

Nehvestâhemêstse?: Help me?

Seshat... emo'ooxhesta?: Seshat... is she okay?

Ooxhesta: All right.

Kuckunniwi: little wolf (may be used as name for a male child)

 

**Scots-Gaelic**

Coupin’: Scottish word for saying that something hurts like hell

Tha thu cho duaichnidh ri èarr àirde de a' coisich deas damh - You are as ugly as the north end of a southward traveling ox.  
Cach or Caoch: Shit, excrement  
Mo Chreach: Goddamn (lit. my ruin)  
Duin do ghob: Shut your mouth  
Leam-leat: Two-faced, double-crossing bastard  
Lan dhen cac: Arrogant, pompous (lit. full of shit)  
Pòg mo thòin: Kiss my arse  
Thalla gu Taigh na Galla: Go to hell (lit. Go to the House of the Bitch)  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn’t until that evening that Jessica was able to lift her arms for more than a few seconds.

 _'Well, here's hoping,'_ she thought wryly as she carefully reached out for the pen and paper, but frowned deeply when her left arm barely moved. She'd forgotten about the cast.

Carson seemed to understand immediately. "You're left-handed, aren't you?"

Jessica slowly nodded in deference to the pounding in her head. "Heehe'e."

"Well, we've made _some_ progress," he smiled comfortingly. "I now know what the Cheyenne word is for 'yes'. Learn something new every day."

Jessica snorted. Just what she needed... a comedian. She tried to hold out her right arm for the writing implements, but hissed when her broken collarbone impeded her progress. Carson rolled over a tray table and helped the woman move her arm so that it was resting in a writing position after carefully raising the head of the bed enough so she could see what she was doing. Jessica awkwardly held the pen for a moment, trying to figure out the logistics of writing with the wrong hand. She worried at her lower lip as she shakily printed out a few words that her burning eyes could barely focus on and slid the pad back to Carson.

He read out loud. "'Can you read me now?'"

Jessica's battered face lit up with relief.

Carson returned her tentative smile with a bright one of his own. "Well, looks we might be able to make this work while Nurse Saito contacts our linguists." He looked over at the nurse and nodded, and she left the room to complete her task. "Now, let's have another look at you, shall we?"

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

The next day, there was a small meeting held in the infirmary. Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard, and Rodney McKay entered the room, with Sergeants Bates and Stackhouse guarding the entrance.

"Where's Beckett?" Rodney asked impatiently.

"Right here," Carson answered as he entered from the other side of the room, followed by Nurse Saito. "If you'll follow me, we'll be able to talk to Dr. Monevata now."

"Really?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said that none of the linguists were able to speak her native language."

Carson smiled. "True, true, but we've managed to work out a system. The communication problem should work itself out in time, as Jessica's brain unscrambles itself and she gains her strength back."

Everyone followed him to the small private room off of the infirmary, with Rodney muttering from the back of the line, "How very exciting. Here's hoping she _has_ the time."

The group all crowded into the room, with Carson standing directly beside his patient. "I'll warn you all now... we need t'keep this short. She's still got a lot of recovering t'do, and needs her rest."

Jessica scribbled something on the pad of paper and gingerly pushed it over for the doctor to read.

Carson chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment, lass."

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side questioningly, and Carson explained. "She said I sounded just like Dr. Frasier, back at SGC."

"This is all well and good, but can we get to the Q & A portion now?" Rodney snapped irritably. "I've a hell of a lot of work to do here, trying to save our asses and all."

"Easy, McKay," Sheppard warned.

Jessica blinked at Rodney with an inscrutable expression before writing on her notepad. Carson read it and replied, "No, Doctor. You didn't bring the Goa'uld down on us. We've got a shield up on the Stargate, and the two Jaffa warriors that'd followed you were either killed or knocked back through the Gate."

"Seshat... emo'ooxhesta?" Worried chestnut eyes regarded Carson as he shook his head in confusion.

"še'šenovôtse..." She made shaky undulating motions with her right hand before pointing towards the back of her head. "Me'ko," she finished impatiently.

"I dinna understand, lass. Write it down, remember?"

With a frustrated huff, Jessica dashed the words down as quickly as she could on paper.

"Who is Seshat?" Carson asked as he watched her write. Jessica wrote her answer as Rodney's eyes widened in recognition.

"Seshat was known as the Egyptian Goddess of Reading and Writing," Rodney said in a gruff tone. "She was Thoth's wife."

Jessica nodded, and Carson read her note. "Jessica says Seshat was also known as the Goddess of Architecture and Arithmetic."

"Yes yes yes, all very nice, but what does she have to do with... this?" Rodney curtly gestured at everyone in the room.

Jessica sighed in frustration and wrote some more.

After long moments, Carson read, "Thoth and Seshat were actually Goa'uld scientists. Jessica's companion was a temporary Host to Seshat."

All eyebrows in the room rose. "Really?" Sheppard asked. "I’d wondered if all the Egyptian gods were Goa'uld."

Jessica took the pad back and wrote some more. "More than likely," Carson interpreted. He lowered the pad and looked his patient in the eye. "And the lad that was with you... was he one of your team mates?"

Jessica shook her head sadly before writing again.

Carson's face softened in sympathy as he read. "I'm sorry, lass, neither of them made it."

Jessica lowered suddenly shuttered eyes briefly before looking up to Elizabeth. "Netonês˘evehe?" She cocked her head to the side with a frown.

Carson translated. "I believe she's asking your name, Doctor."

Elizabeth smiled softly as she stepped up to the end of the bed. "I’m Dr. Elizabeth Weir. We worked together some years back through the United Nations, remember?"

Jessica's puzzled expression cleared into understanding, and she wrote onto the notepad.

"Ah, yes, she'd been wondering where she remembered meeting you," Carson replied for the woman. "She wants to know what base she’s on, and when she can get back to Earth to make her report."

Everyone's faces firmed as Elizabeth answered. "I'm sorry, Doctor," she began, but Jessica interrupted her with a curt gesture. "Jessica," Elizabeth continued with a nod of understanding. "Our location is in the Pegasus Galaxy. You're in Atlantis, and unfortunately there's no way home from here just yet."

Jessica's eyes became almost impossibly wide. "At... lan... tis?" she managed to grate out. Her gaze turned guarded, and she wrote on the notepad before shakily sliding it and the pen back to Carson. She closed her eyes in apparent exhaustion as she slumped back into her pillow.

He frowned at the brief words before turning back to the small group. "She's not gonna talk to us any more," he said quietly.

Rodney threw up his hands. "Why the hell not?"

Carson continued watching his suddenly stone-faced patient as he replied. "I dinna think she believes that she's truly safe here."

Rodney snorted. "Of course she isn't. None of us are right now."

"That's enough, Rodney," Elizabeth warned in a stern tone. She strode over to the hospital bed and sat in the chair beside it. "Dr. Monevata... Jessica..."

Jessica wrenched open her eyes.

"I realize that you've been through a great ordeal the past few years, and are understandably wary of new surroundings. It must have been hard for you to not know whom to trust. For reasons I can't explain right now, we're in the middle of a situation of our own. We'll talk more once you're feeling better, though, so until then, I ask that you relax as much as you can and let our doctors help you. Okay?"

Jessica had watched Elizabeth very closely during her speech. She narrowed her eyes, and gave a brief nod. "Ooxhesta."

It was obvious from the woman's pallor and drooping eyelids that she had used up what little strength she had just from this small gathering, and Carson shooed everyone out of the room.

"Now, young lady, I expect you to take a nice long nap now, understand?" His tone gave no room for argument, and Jessica flashed a brief, weary smile. He really did remind her of Janet Frasier. Now if she could only believe this wasn't some sort of trick being played on her mind...

Her troubled thoughts followed her as she succumbed to the darkness of drugged sleep.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

”Doctor Weir,” Carson Beckett called out urgently as he rushed towards his superior.

Elizabeth turned from her conversation with Teyla to greet the concerned yet excited eyes of her Chief Medical Officer. “What is it, Carson?”

He gripped his tablet tightly as he almost stumbled to a stop beside the women. “I have the results from Dr. Monevata’s… Jessica’s… complete workup,” he panted.

“Okay?” Elizabeth frowned in bemused confusion.

“You do not look very happy with your results, Doctor,” Teyla commented.

“I am, yet I’m not,” Carson replied in a strange tone. At the two women’s confused looks, he thrust his tablet into Elizabeth’s hands. “Maybe you should just take a look for yourself.”

Elizabeth pored over the complex medical jargon on the reports for a long couple of minutes, understanding a little more than half of it in the end. “I’m sorry, Carson, but this looks like Dr. Monevata’s DNA is abnormal.”

Carson shook his head. “Not just abnormal… familiar.”

“I do not follow,” Teyla commented as she looked over Elizabeth’s shoulder.

Carson took a deep breath before continuing. “Jessica not only tested positive for the Ancient gene, but she also has a more complex DNA structure than we do.”

He paused, looking as if he were torn between excitement and nausea.

The women blinked, still not up to the physician’s level of understanding.

“Jessica’s DNA structure is definitely human, but much more complex than ours. As a matter of fact, it’s almost exactly half that as the Ancient, Chaya, we encountered on Proculus.”

“So, she’s…” Elizabeth trailed off with a frown.

“Twice as advanced as we are genetically, but half that of the Ancients.”

Realization finally hit Elizabeth, as evidenced by her suddenly wide eyes.

“But how is that possible, Dr. Beckett?” Teyla asked. “She is from your home planet, correct?”

“Well, I _thought_ so,” Carson replied. “But after seeing this…” He shrugged.

“And what of these other tests you performed?” It seemed Teyla was asking all the questions swirling around in Elizabeth’s brain. What the test results were showing directly contrasted with Elizabeth’s memories of working with Jessica Monevata.

”Her brain scans are also strange. Areas we have yet to figure out what their function is in a normal human have a marked increase in functionality with her,” Carson began. “She definitely was Host to at least one Goa’uld symbiote, but I have no idea why or how she doesn’t have one now. Jessica’s being understandably… guarded.”

“She does not trust us,” Teyla interjected with a short nod.

“Not just that; I think she believes she’s not really here,” Carson contradicted. He took a deep breath before forging on with his explanation. “She’s obviously been a prisoner recently, as evidenced by the physical trauma she’s undergone.”

“She was tortured, you mean,” Elizabeth spoke up. She remembered the various reports she’d read at the SGC when she was briefly in command about how the Goa’uld tended to treat their ‘guests’. “And you think she believes this is all a fabrication of her mind.”

“Aye, I do. Obviously I dinna know the whole story, but her body’s painting a pretty strong picture.” Carson shook his head. “Honestly, she shouldn’t be alive right now, with the severity of her wounds… not to mention she’s damned lucky t’not have lost her leg from that break. But for all she knows, Jessica’s still a prisoner of the Goa’uld, and this,” he waved a hand at their surroundings. “is merely a result of her subconscious trying to cope with it all. Whether this was created by her or her captors remains to be seen, in her eyes.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I wish we could dedicate more time in reassuring her that she’s safe, but with the Wraith so close…”

“Our resources are stretched thin as it is,” Carson agreed. “Dr. Heightmeyer’s been trying to visit on a regular basis, but Jessica’s not been very cooperative.”

“And Kate’s docket has been full,” Elizabeth added. “I’m surprised she’s been able to fit Dr. Monevata in at all.”

“Well, you know how she is with what she considers ‘special circumstances’,” Carson replied with a little shrug. “’Specially since her specialty is in PTSD.”

“Do what you can for Dr. Monevata, Carson,” Elizabeth ordered gently as she handed his tablet back to him. “And didn’t you mention that she’d requested access to those devices she had on her when she arrived?”

“Oh aye,” he nodded. “She’s been a wee bit bored just lyin’ there in her bed.”

Elizabeth pondered the notion for a moment before making her decision. “I don’t see why not, so long as she isn’t left unsupervised.”

“All right.”

“Did you include your request for her medical records in your message to the SGC?” Elizabeth changed the subject slightly.

“Aye, I just dinna know how they’d be getting it to me,” Carson replied with a worried look. “It’s not like they’ll just send someone back through the Gate with everything we need and asked for, is it?”

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, not having an answer for her CMO.

“Oh, and another thing,” Carson added. “Jessica overheard the nurses talking about the personal messages, and had asked me if she could add one to Dr. Jackson.”

Elizabeth squinted a little as she mulled it over. “I don’t see why that would be a problem, Carson,” she replied. “But why would she specifically ask about Dr. Jackson? She’s had no way of knowing he’s alive, being gone as long as she has.”

Carson shrugged. “I dinna know,” Carson replied with a note of puzzlement in his voice. ”From what I’ve learned, her team disappeared a few months after Dr. Jackson’s death. There’s something a bit… _off_ about the lass. Almost like she knows things she shouldn’a.”

Elizabeth’s mouth quirked at the edges. “I’d worked with Jessica through the United Nations before she joined the SGC. She was a bit… enigmatic. She just always seemed to have a way of connecting with the people we were negotiating with, and was one of the most highly requested interpreters that the U.N. had.”

“Well, however she knows, she does. And she was pretty excited at the thought of being able to send a message home. I dinna see why we should deny her the chance, really.”

“True.” Elizabeth nodded. “All right, but make sure Jessica knows to keep things short. I don’t know how much extra room Rodney will have for her message.” She fell silent as she remembered the many messages she had to unfortunately make to the families of all the expedition members that had died.

“Since you have said that Dr. Monevata is a scientist, I’m sure some of my people’s elders would be interested in spending time with and educating her in our ways to help her pass her recovery more pleasantly,” Teyla offered after a few moments.

“She’s a theologian,” Elizabeth replied helpfully, but expounded when Teyla frowned in puzzlement at the word. “She studies the religious faiths of other cultures.”

“Ah, then Charin would be the best person to speak with her,” Teyla thought out loud. “She will be most pleased to have the company. I’m afraid she has not had much to do since she returned to Atlantis due to her ill health.”

“Then it’s settled,” Carson smiled. “I’ll make the arrangements and explain everything to Jessica. But about her…” he waved a hand in the air in an effort to describe the combined tech contained in the arm band and ribbon devices. “Rodney said he could spare Dr. Simpson for a few hours a day to learn what she can while she helps Jessica perform any repairs on it.”

“As long as there’s at least one member of the security staff keeping watch,” Elizabeth warned.

“Aye,” was the doctor’s reply, and he gathered his tablet and took his leave of the two women.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“All right, Doctor, I’m ready when you are.” Lieutenant Ford made one final adjustment to the camera on its stand, and held his finger over the record button. “Would you like to do this privately?”

Jessica offered a weak smile of reassurance as she briefly shook her head no. “Th-thank you, no,” she haltingly replied in English. While she was progressing well in regaining conscious control of her languages, she was still having trouble keeping from slipping back into her native Cheyenne… or one of the other languages she’d first learned. She nodded her readiness, and Ford began the recording.

“H-hello, Daniel. Saya ketahui ia adalah sedikit satu kejutan untuk nampak saya selepas sepanjang masa ini.” The corner of her mouth twitched upwards in wry humor. “Dengan jujur, saya berasa terperanjat saya menghidup ini panjang.” She paused a moment to take a careful sip from the water glass sitting on the bed table covering her legs. “Ada begitu banyak saya kena beritahu kamu. Saya tidak tahu di mana ke bermula.” She thought about all that she’d missed back at home, and blinked away the burning in the back of her eyes as she gathered her drug-muddled thoughts together. “Saya takut saya adalah sedikit satu kacau-bilau sekarang juga, tetapi kita sentiasa ketahui Goa'uld adalah tidak pernah itu ‘ramah-tamah’ jeni, huh?” She paused again to wearily scrub her free hand across her eyes. “Jika kamu boleh, sila memanggil abang saya dan biar dia dan Sonam ketahui saya adalah masih hidup?Saya ketahui kamu beritahu mereka menceritakan dengan panjang lebar, tetapi kamu ketahui bagaimana Manny kebimbangan.” This time she couldn’t quell the sad smile that crossed her face. “Saya pasti dia adalah adalah degil berkenaan itu seluruh saya hampir mati perkara itu masa seluruh … dia ada mungkin di kamu pada satu asas yang selalu untuk nampak jika kamu telah mendengar dari saya masih . Dan Daniel,” she paused a moment to look earnestly into the camera lens. “Saya ketahui apa terjadi pada kamu dan datuk saya.Saya tidak boleh menjelas, tetapi saya buat. Aya sangat gembira dia tidak menderita,banyak, dan saya harap saya adalah sana untuk upacara itu.Saya adalah gembira kamumenjumpai kamu rumah, Kuckunniwi. Mereka masih hendak kamu sana.”

Her haunted eyes held Lieutenant Ford captive the entire time she was speaking. He had absolutely no idea what language the woman was speaking, but he was able to understand Dr. Jackson’s first name, as well as one other word. Goa’uld. Even though he’d not served all that long on the SGC teams before the mission to Atlantis, Ford still knew firsthand that the Goa’uld were a nasty business. He’d also heard nightmarish stories from some of the seasoned soldiers about missions they’d gone on with various teams before they’d come to the Pegasus Galaxy.

Absently, he wondered who would win in a battle between the Goa’uld, their Jaffa and the Wraith.

Hell, if they all wiped each other out, the universe would be a much better place. Wouldn’t it?

Unaware of the Lieutenant’s musing, Jessica had continued to speak.

“Saya teka saya menjaga ini pendik. Dr. Beckett telah diancamke ubat sayapengsanjika saya tidaktindakan saya sendiridan.” She smiled wearily. “Bolehkah saya Janet adalah mentornya.Dia pasti ada itu seluruh Napoleanic kompleks bawah mengetuk. Suka saya kata, sana punya banyak ke beritahu kamu,tetapi saya tidak akan memasuk dalamfaktasehingga saya ada lebih masa… dan tenaga.” Jessica ducked her head down a little in a gesture of self-consciousness. “Saya ketahui kamu mengingat apa yang berlaku bilasatu telah dicipta. Walaupun Goa 'uld telah berjaya meneutralisasi (dan bravo pada satu pekerjaan), ada tuan Sistem Tuanmasih percuma disana. Banyak dengan Jaffa masih jujur untuk mereka. Sila, Daniel, berhati-hati bila kamu mengeluar.”

Jessica shifted a little in the bed, and winced as her battered body protested. Her eyes began to droop against her will, and with an effort she switched back to English. “L-Lieutenant, I th-think I’m… done.”

He noticed how the color had begun to drain from her face, and moved back to the camera. “You want me to call the doc?”

Before Jessica could answer, Carson strode through the doorway. “I hope you're done, young lady,” he chastised softly. “Because you need your rest.” He moved to her side and quickly checked all of her bandages, and the young Cheyenne winced at the gentle probing of his fingers.

“All right, Lieutenant, I’m afraid we’ll have to wrap this up,” Carson commented in a worried tone over his shoulder.

“Actually, I think she was finished,” Ford replied, and Jessica nodded briefly. “Is there anything you’d like me to add, Doctor?” he asked Jessica.

Carson had lowered the bed so that his patient was almost completely reclined, and she answered without opening her heavy eyelids. “W-Would you please… ask how the… s-standings are… for the S-Stanley Cup?” she murmured. “I’m dying to… k-know how the… P-Penguins, t-the Av-valanche… and t-the Oilers are doing. I s-swear, three y-years without… w-watching one… s-single NHL game is t-the… w-worst t-torture imaginable.”

Carson and Ford exchanged bemused looks. “I’ll make sure to include that in your recording, ma’am,” Ford replied as he stopped the camera and began to break down the video equipment.

As he left the room, he heard Jessica murmur, “R-really, d-doctor, I’m fine.”

Carson snorted. “Your fever’s spiked again, love. You’re way beyond ‘fine’.”

Ford again wondered to himself just how this woman had managed to stay alive for so long on her own.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

“We have unscheduled offworld activation!” Sgt. Harriman announced crisply. Lt. Col. Samantha Carter rushed to the control console and dropped into the chair to the right of the Sergeant as the wormhole stabilized.

“Receiving transmission,” Harriman continued.

Before Sam could say anything, the Stargate disengaged, and the shimmering wormhole swooshed out of existence.

“Who’s it from?” the Sergeant inquired curiously, peering over at Sam’s computer monitor. Massive amounts of data were streaming across it, too quickly for the human eye to track.

Sam tore her astonished gaze away from the display to look at her friend. “Atlantis…”

 

oOo

 

Hours later, Dr. Daniel Jackson was interrupted from his study of an artifact from P3S-947 by a knock on his office door. “Come in,” he called out absently. He scribbled down a note in his journal, and flipped a few pages on one of the half-dozen books carefully strewn about his desk as reference materials.

“Daniel,” Jack ambled into the room and shook his head at the organized chaos of his friend’s office. “Jeeze, Danny, ya think you’d hire a maid or something to help you clean this place up.”

“Is there something I can do for you, Jack?” Daniel replied with a small sigh. He was so not up for putting up with his friend’s procrastinating from paperwork today. He could already feel the migraine beginning to pulse behind his eyes, and it was only 10am.

“Actually, I think you’ll want to check this out.” Jack propped his hip on the edge of the overpiled desk and laid a jewel-toned CD case right in the middle of Daniel’s work.

“What’s this?” His interest piqued, Daniel looked up at his friend. “Please don’t tell me you burned some more of that silly cartoon for me to watch?”

“I’m wounded Danny, really I am,” Jack snarked right back as he laid a hand over his heart. “The Simpsons is a cultural classic. But actually, it’s a message from Atlantis… for you.”

Daniel’s brows shot up. “Really? I thought they weren’t able to come back through the Gate?” He picked up the CD case and looked at it curiously.

“Actually, no, they can’t. Seems like McKay found a way to condense a whole lotta info into a one second transmission, so they sent us all sorts of crap. Carter tells me this one was a personal message for you.”

“Really? From whom, I wonder?” Now Daniel was really intrigued. From what he could remember of the people who’d gone on the expedition, none of them would’ve really been all that interested in talking to _him_ personally.

“Why don’cha pop it in the ole’ computer and see?” Jack replied with a grin.

“I guess you’re going to stay and watch it with me?”

“If you like, I could quick run down to the commissary and grab us a bag of popcorn,” Jack offered with a sly wink. “Otherwise, I’m dying to see which of your old girlfriends sent you a ‘Dear Daniel’ letter.”

He didn’t mean to, but Daniel snorted. “When have I had the time to date, Jack?” He shook his head as he popped open the case and inserted it into the CD drive on his desktop.

“Girl on every planet, Danny-boy,” Jack teased. “Or have you forgotten?”

“ _Please_ , don’t make me remind _you_ of all the women’s hearts you’ve broken over the years, Jack,” Daniel shot back, not in the least bit offended. He booted up the DVD player on his computer, and pushed play.

The battered face of a Native American woman came into focus on the screen. “ _Hello, Daniel. I know it’s a bit of a shock to see me after all this time_.”

Daniel felt the blood drain quickly from his face, and instead roar through his head. He dimly realized that Jack had slapped him on the shoulder with some sort of comment about him being right about that girlfriend thing, but Daniel just didn’t have the energy to reply. His gaze was completely riveted to the screen in front of him.

What? How?! But… but… She was _dead_. _**Dead**_.

The corner of Jessica Monevata’s mouth twitched upwards wryly. “ _Frankly, I’m surprised I survived this long._ ” She paused a moment to take a careful sip from the water glass sitting on the bed table covering her legs. “ _There’s so much I have to tell you. I don’t know where to begin_.”

 

“Daniel? Danny? Hey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Jack felt the warning bells begin to shriek in the back of his mind. Never in a million years would he have expected _this_ kind of a reaction from his best friend.

 

The woman blinked for a moment before continuing. “ _I’m afraid I’m a bit of a mess right now, but then we always knew the Goa’uld were never the ‘hospitable’ sort, huh_?” She paused again to wearily scrub her free hand across her eyes. “ _If you could, please call my brother and let him and Sonam know I’m still alive? I know you won’t be able to tell them details, but you know how Manny worries_.”

“Yeah… you, you could say that,” Daniel murmured. His burgeoning migraine violently slammed full force into his forehead, the sudden queasiness making him wonder absently if he should worry about throwing up all over his notes. No, that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all. He wanted to move, but found he was frozen to his chair, and could only stare helplessly at the woman talking in… was that Malay? It was, wasn’t it?

Jessica was still talking, but now with a sad smile crossing her face. “ _I’m sure he’s been stubborn about the whole me dying thing the entire time… probably calling you on a regular basis to see if you’ve heard from me yet. And Daniel_ ,” she paused a moment to look earnestly into the camera lens. “ _I know about what happened to you… and my grandfather. I can’t explain how… but I do. I’m just glad he didn’t suffer much, and I wish I could’ve been there for the ceremony. I’m glad you found your way back home, Kuckunniwi. They still need you there_.”

 

Jack’s arm jumped into Daniel’s line-of-sight, a finger jabbing the keyboard and effectively pausing the CD. Daniel felt his shoulders gripped firmly, and Jack turned and carefully shook him.

“Danny? C’mon, man, you’re really freaking me out here. Talk to me!”

Daniel blinked a few times as he tried to regain some sort of composure.

“Sir?” Sam stood in the doorway, looking at the two men with growing concern. “Is everything all right?”

“No, damn it, I think Daniel’s gone into shock.” Jack was _really_ freaking out now. Daniel’s face had gone completely gray, his brilliant blue eyes glassy and dazed.

Finally, as Sam quickly crossed the room to check his pulse, Daniel was able to grate out a word. “Jess?”

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

“Ya feelin’ any better there, Daniel?”

Daniel sat on the edge of the infirmary bed, his glasses propped on the top of his head and right hand pinching his nose. “Yeah, the migraine shot’s finally kicking in.” His left foot swung a little to tap a staccato rhythm between the metal bed and side table.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” Jack slipped around the end of the bed and sat almost directly in front of his friend in the disgustingly uncomfortable plastic chair. One of these days he just _knew_ he’d find a little plaque on this exact chair with his name on it. ‘Specially Reserved for Jack O’Neill.’ They’d probably forget the extra “l” too, the mooks.

Daniel sighed, one that Jack was all too aware of. It spoke of painful memories… something which his friend had way too many of over the last… well, his entire frickin’ _life_.

Blue eyes focused on brown, and Daniel began. “About three years ago, you remember what had happened with SG-11?”

Jack thought for a moment, going over a mental tally of important events before that particular memory surfaced. “Yeah, Goa’uld sniper-trap. Wiped out the whole team, except for that one Marine. What about it?”

“One of my friends was on that team. Dr. Jessica Monevata.”

Jack frowned thoughtfully. “Hey, Monevata. I remember her. She played in my fantasy hockey series. Pretty cool for a scientist geek. Had great taste in beer, too.”

The corners of Daniel’s mouth curved upwards in a muted smile. “That was her on the disc, Jack.”

Jack’s eyes widened as his spine went rigidly straight. “No frickin’ _way_. That’s not possible.”

Daniel’s smile grew until the edges of his eyes crinkled, although it didn’t quite extend to his still solemn gaze. “Now you know why I reacted the way I did.” He ran a hand through his short hair, as he grabbed his glasses with the other one, making parts of it momentarily stand straight on end. “I guess what freaks me out the most is that for the past three years, her brother’s been insisting that she _wasn’t_ dead. He’s been calling me once a month since I Descended to check in and see if we’d found her yet.”

Jack blinked. “Talk about denial.”

Daniel slowly shook his head. “No. He _knew_. Jess and her brother have always been really close.”

Silvering brows shot upwards, and Jack opened his mouth to no doubt make a snide remark, but Daniel cut him off. “No, Jack, not _that_ kind of close. Get your mind out of the gutter. Jess and Manny are twins. They just seem to _know_ things about each other, even when they’re far apart.”

“So,” Jack scratched the stubble on the side of his face. “They do that whole psychic twin thing, huh? Always thought it was a load of crap.”

Dr. Brightman came out of her office and approached the two men. She pulled a penlight out of her medical smock’s pocket and raised it as she came up to Daniel’s side. “How are you feeling now, Dr. Jackson? Better?”

Daniel flinched away from the threat of the bright light and nodded minutely. “Yeah. You mind keeping that thing away from me?” he practically growled in irritation as he lightly swatted the offending device away.

Dr. Brightman scowled prettily and gently grabbed Daniel’s hand. “Dr. Jackson, you were in a fairly severe state of shock when the General brought you in. Not to mention you’re suffering from an extreme migraine as well. You should be glad I’m even _thinking_ of releasing you. I’d be much happier if I could keep you for observation overnight, but…” she left the rest of her sentence dangling, knowing that it’d be enough of an argument to get what she wanted.

Daniel grimaced and heaved a deep and put-upon sigh. “Right. Bring on the bright flashy lights, then.”

She shook her head. “Nope, not until your symptoms have abated. You’ll need to stay here for another few hours…” she broke off at Daniel’s pained groan, narrowed her eyes, and continued as if she weren’t interrupted. “And _only_ when I’m satisfied with your test results, you can leave. I’d rather you stay on the base overnight though.”

Daniel shot a desperate look Jack’s way. “Jack…” he pleaded for intervention.

Jack merely shook his head and chuckled. “After all these years, you think I’m gonna butt heads with the doctors here?” he grinned. “My rank means spit when it comes to this stuff, Daniel.”

“Traitor,” Daniel muttered, and reluctantly laid back down on the hospital bed at Dr. Brightman’s urging.

 

oOo

A few hours later, when the exit examination was finished, much to an increasingly grumpy Daniel’s relief, the doctor released him with a warning. “I don’t want you working until at least tomorrow morning, Dr. Jackson. I also don’t want you driving, so you either find someone to drive you home tonight, or…”

“No worries, doc,” Jack replied as he rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Daniel’s gonna be staying with me.”

“Jack…” Daniel protested, but was immediately cut off.

“We got some discussing to do,” was Jack’s weighted reply, and it took Daniel a moment before he understood the meaning behind the mild sentence. He and Jack needed to figure out what they were going to do about Jessica’s sudden reappearance at the Atlantis base.

“Fine,” Daniel nodded carefully in deference to his still-throbbing head. “But could I _please_ sleep in my own bed?” he pleaded. “And at least I have edible food in my fridge.”

Jack shrugged as he waved at the doctor over his shoulder, and steered his friend out of the infirmary. “You knockin’ my taste in food again?”

“Jack, I bet you still have that can of Cheez Whiz and half a jar of black olives in your fridge from last Christmas,” Daniel replied wryly, and Jack snorted.

“Yeah, they’ve probably formed an alliance, and’re waiting to pounce on me next time I open the door,” he chuckled. “So, your place it is, then.”

“Are we leaving right now, though?” Daniel asked. “It’s only 4:30.”

“I’m gonna drop you off with Teal’c. Unfortunately I still got some paperwork to finish, so unless you wanna help me with it?” He trailed off with a hopeful note in his voice, looking at Daniel from the edge of his eye.

The corner of Daniel’s mouth curled up in a smile. “No working for me until tomorrow morning, remember?” he teased. “I think that includes doing your homework for you, Jack.”

Jack merely shrugged with a shameless grin. “Anyway, I gotta clean up a few things before we head out. And since Carter’s wrapped up in decrypting all that data from Atlantis, I don’t want you anywhere she can snatch you up and put you to work. I know I can trust Teal’c to keep you out of trouble for an hour or so.”

“So nice to feel trusted,” Daniel mock-growled. As much as Jack’s mother-hen nature irritated him at times, he always had a warm feeling go through him knowing that he had a good friend who cared deeply about his welfare.

Jack merely chuckled and patted him on the back as the elevator doors shut behind them. “Someone’s gotta look out for your ass, Danny-boy. ‘Cause you sure as hell seem to forget about it.”

“Too busy hauling yours out of the fire,” Daniel replied easily. “Jack,” his face suddenly became tense, “we need to find out about what happened to Jess.”

“We will, Daniel,” Jack soothed his friend. “Carter’s gonna be at it probably through the rest of the night. If she comes across anything else about Monevata, then she knows to give me a call. Okay?”

Daniel sighed as the doors opened on the residential level Teal’c’s quarters were located on. “Okay.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Jessica Monevata stared listlessly at the ceiling of the infirmary room. She felt so helpless just lying there for days on end, even though she was acutely aware just how close she’d come to dying this time around.

And it wasn’t like the folks here on Atlantis had a sarcophagus handy to just pop her in, either.

Not like Jessica would ever go in one again. She’d rather die.

She stared at the nearly invisible lines running over the ceiling, imagining constellations from all the different worlds she’d visited, just letting her troubled thoughts wander.

She’d been on the run for so long, it felt really weird to be stationary for more than a couple of days at a time. Panic attacks weren’t something she normally had, but she’d been fighting them off fairly frequently since she’d arrived in Atlantis. They were the worst when she woke up for the first time each day… she’d be confused and in pain, sweating and nauseous at the thought that Jaffa patrols could be on top of her any minute. Twice she’d fallen out of her bed trying to get away, and she’d aggravated her injuries. Dr. Beckett had to surgically reset her arm with pins yesterday, and now she had to remain flat on her back at all times with her leg up in a sling, as well as her arm completely immobilized against her bruised chest.

‘ _Well, at least I don’t have to worry about them not understanding me any more,’_ she mused with a small grim smile. She’d finally recovered mastery of her languages, and had soon afterwards asked if there was any translating she could do to help the Atlanteans in their efforts.

 

oOo

 

There was a small funeral held for Jessica’s companion… held off until she was stable enough to attend. Although, Dr. Beckett had been adamant that she remain on a stretcher the entire time. He didn’t even want to allow that, but the woman had been quietly insistent, and he finally capitulated. She needed some closure after all she’d gone through; she’d also had no way of saying goodbye to her fallen teammates in the years she’d been on the run, and Dr. Heightmeyer had strongly recommended that Jessica be allowed this.

Only a few people gathered at the East Pier: Carson Beckett, Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard, Aiden Ford, Alan Bates, Teyla Emmagan, and at the back of the group reluctantly stood Rodney McKay. Seshat and her Host Tirel were wrapped in a sheet almost mummy-style at Jessica’s request. The Cheyenne woman lay propped up on the stretcher, looking wan and exhausted. Although she didn’t once cry, her chestnut eyes were filled with soul-crushing sorrow, and Elizabeth for one felt sympathetic tears prickling at the corners of hers.

Elizabeth said a few words, consigning the body to the ocean, and after a few minutes of silence, Jessica began to sing. Her voice, though soft, carried over the waves and was reflected back to the group by the ever-present ocean breeze ruffling their hair.

What surprised John more than anything was that after the second verse, Carson joined in, his clear tenor beautifully complimenting Jessica’s alto. The thing of it was, the doctor was singing in his native Gaelic, and it didn’t detract from the English version in any way. In actuality, it only added to the emotion that had settled thickly on the people present.

John cast his gaze around at the small group as Bates and Ford carefully lowered the body into the sea from the end of the pier, and noticed Rodney had retreated from the others. The scientist was turned partially away, his profile backlit by the brilliant sun setting on the floating city behind them. Rodney’s arms were wrapped around his ribs in a fierce self-hug, and if John hadn’t known any better, he would’ve sworn that the man was crying. Or at the very least about to.

Jessica and Carson sang on as the body sank beneath the gently breaking waves, the Cheyenne’s voice growing husky from using it more than she was used to.

The singer’s voices trailed away after the last words had been uttered, and silence once again descended for a few minutes in deference to the spell woven by them. Carson rested a comforting hand on Jessica’s shoulder from his position directly behind her, and Elizabeth had taken the woman’s uninjured hand somewhere along the line. Jessica sagged back against the pillows propping her up, her still-dry eyes fluttering closed on the violent and vicious memories the simple ceremony had obviously dredged up.

John reflexively looked back to where Rodney was, and managed to catch a glimpse of his friend’s rapidly retreating back. The Major’s brows bunched together in puzzlement; what was going _on_ in that man’s head?

 

~+~+~+~+~+~

 

Little by little in the days following the burial the senior staff accepted that Jessica was who she seemed to be, and they filled her in on their current situation with the Wraith.

“I don’t suppose you’ve run across them in your travels?” Elizabeth Weir had asked during one brief visit. She’d made it a point to periodically check in with Jessica to make sure that the linguist was progressing well in her recovery.

“No, I’m sorry I haven’t,” Jessica replied quietly, before tilting her head slightly to the side. “Or… maybe I shouldn’t be sorry.”

Elizabeth snorted. “I think you had enough going on with the Goa’uld.”

Jessica looked away, her expression haunted. “Yes, you could say that.”

Elizabeth made a sympathetic grimace. “Have you spoken with Dr. Heightmeyer at all?”

Jessica looked back at her. “I’ve never been one much for talking about my feelings, Elizabeth,” she replied gently. “I’ll be fine. I expect your people need the doctor’s assistance now more than I do anyway. It’s not like they’re used to dealing with this kind of situation.”

“No, but that doesn’t lessen the impact of your experiences, either,” Elizabeth argued. “I can’t begin to understand everything you’ve gone through, but I know it’ll be good if you can talk about it all with someone who could at least help you gain a healthy perspective.”

The corners of Jessica’s mouth curved into a sad, gentle smile. “Thank you for your concern, Elizabeth. I know I’ve been having difficulty adjusting to being here,” she ruefully waved her uninjured arm at her broken limbs. “But I also know that’s normal after being a fugitive for almost three years. It’s a lot to adjust to, but I’m handling it.”

“I’ve been told you’re having some pretty intense nightmares,” Elizabeth observed.

Suddenly the younger Native American’s eyes hardened. “Please, don’t push me on this, Elizabeth. Right now is just not the time.”

“When, then?”

“Maybe when this entire planet isn’t in imminent danger of being destroyed by these Wraith?” Jessica reminded her.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~

 

Elizabeth hadn’t pursued the subject further; only had promised to Jessica that they would return to the topic after the immediate threat from the Wraith had been dealt with. Until then, though, Elizabeth had agreed that, under Dr. Beckett’s close scrutiny and approval, Jessica could use one of the infirmary’s laptops to help with translating files from the Ancient’s computer system. So Jessica had concentrated on finding maps of the city, in hopes of determining if there were any places yet to be discovered harboring weapons that could be used against the Wraith. She also had pulled up the schematics on the weapon’s chair to see if there was a way to create more battle drones from materials the humans had brought with them from Earth.

Sergeant Bates hadn’t been very pleased to find out that Jessica had been able to access files about weapons, and was even less happy when she had blithely explained that she wasn’t only a linguist and translator, but held a Doctorate in mechanical engineering, and was also an accomplished computer hacker.

Bates had immediately confiscated the laptop & gone to Major Sheppard with his concerns regarding their “guest”, and John and Elizabeth ended up having a “talk” with the slowly recovering woman about working herself too hard. Not to mention going through files that she had yet to be cleared to look at.

Jessica was nonplussed. “It’s not like I have a lot of quality reading materials here,” she replied softly, nodding at the small stack of magazines on the end table to her right. “I’ve never been one to pay attention to stuff like this. Now, schematics on these Zero Point Modules…”

John shook his head. “Hunh-uh. No way.” He narrowed his eyes, suddenly curious. “Why would you want to know more about the ZPMs?”

“If I can learn how the Ancients created the energy source, then maybe I could come up with a suggestion on how to recharge the modules,” Jessica replied, thoughtfully tapping one slender finger against the casing of the laptop.

“You really think you could do that?” Elizabeth questioned.

Jessica carefully shrugged her uninjured shoulder. “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

 

“Oh my god, I’m surrounded by morons,” Rodney McKay’s voice keened throughout the infirmary, and John and Elizabeth’s heads whipped around at the scientist’s sudden unseen clattering entrance to the main room.

“WATCH IT!” Rodney snapped as something metal clanged to the floor, and John’s one eyebrow shot up.

“I’d better see what’s going on,” the Major commented wryly. “Make sure McKay doesn’t tick off the nurses again.” With that, he turned and sauntered out of the private room, leaving Jessica and Elizabeth looking at each other curiously.

The corner of Jessica’s mouth curled up in a wry smile. “Think something might’ve gone boom?” she inquired, and Elizabeth snorted softly.

“Knowing Rodney, more than likely,” Elizabeth replied with the grin obvious in her tone. “I’d better…”

Jessica nodded. “Go, make sure he’s not bleeding to death.” Chestnut eyes lit up with amusement when Rodney’s voice sharply cut through the air once again.

“Oh _jeeze_ , I’m bleeding to death! A little help here? Hello?!”

Elizabeth shook her head as she walked out of Jessica’s room, wondering how the woman seemed to know Rodney so well.

 

oOo

 

“Well?” Rodney asked for what seemed like the millionth time.

“You’ll need stitches,” Carson sighed as he peeked under the blood-soaked gauze pad on the wound. He patted his friend on the knee before moving off to a supply cabinet to gather the necessary items.

“ _Won_ derful,” Rodney snapped waspishly. “That spectacular dumbass’ll be scrubbing out the inside of the sewage treatment system for a damned month for this!” He kicked the side of the bedside table with his foot in frustration.

“Rodney, what happened?” Elizabeth strode into the room and saw her head scientist perched on the edge of one of the treatment beds, fidgeting as he cradled his wounded right arm against a scarlet-smeared chest. Blood was still seeping into the gauze that Carson had him holding firmly over the wound, which looked to be about four inches long, and located over the top of his bare forearm.

“Kavanagh happened,” Rodney spit back. His face was a little pale, and his arms trembled slightly… probably from shock, Elizabeth guessed.

John sighed from where he was leaning against the wall beside Rodney’s bed. “What’d he do _this_ time?”

“Only nearly severed my _arm_ with his complete and utter incompetence!” Rodney retorted hotly. “I’ve _had_ it… I want his ass out of here! Send him to the mainland… chuck him off a pier for all I care!”

Carson returned to Rodney’s side, wheeling a tray with his supplies on it alongside him. “Deep breaths, Rodney,” he spoke soothingly. “You need to watch your blood pressure, lad.”

“Yes, yes… and I’m sure working with imbeciles is doing wonders for my ulcer, too,” Rodney replied scathingly. “But that doesn’t make my job any less urgent, does it?”

“Rodney…” Carson warned, but he was cut off by the irate astrophysicist.

“Look, I have so much work to be done, it isn’t even funny. Just stitch me up, give me something for the pain, and I’ll get back to _trying_ to keep us all from getting slaughtered within the week.”

“Jesus, McKay, way to be a drama queen,” John snarked, but Elizabeth could see the concern for his friend in his eyes.

“Bite me, Major,” Rodney shot back, and yelped when Carson tugged on his wrist to bring the arm over the tray. “A little warning?!” he snapped.

“I need to give you a local anesthetic to clean the wound,” Carson replied calmly.

Rodney averted his gaze and waved his free hand. “Fine, fine, go ahead.”

“Seriously, Rodney… what happened?” John spoke up in order to distract his friend from the needle pricking his arm beside the ugly deep cut. Carson began irrigating the wound with saline soon after he determined that the area was numb.

“We were attempting to recalibrate the Naquadah generators to be more efficient, and Kavanagh,” he practically spat out the name venomously, “swiped me with his box cutter!”

“He attacked you?” Elizabeth asked worriedly.

“No no no… he was stripping the protective coating off of wires… which I _told_ him not to touch… and when I asked him what the hell he was doing, his hand slipped and…” he waved his free hand at the nasty looking wound without actually looking at it. “Do I _look_ like a turkey? Shut up, Major,” he snapped before John could do more than open his mouth to comment.

“What? I wasn’t gonna say nothing,” John defended himself with a small smirk.

“Right.”

“Gentlemen,” Elizabeth shook her head at the two men’s ever-present squabbling. “Carson, will Rodney be all right?” she asked the doctor.

Carson briefly looked up from threading the suture needle. “Aye,” he nodded before returning his attention to his task. “He’s lucky no tendons or ligaments were nicked. It’ll smart for a while, but as long as Rodney takes it easy on this arm and keeps it clean, he should be fine in a few days.”

Rodney opened his mouth to most likely issue a scathing retort, but was interrupted by a softly singing voice drifting into the main infirmary room.

 

“ _I can be an asshole of the grandest kind_

_I can withhold like it's going out of style_

_I can be the moodiest baby_

_And you've never met anyone as_

_As negative as I am sometimes…”_

 

John snorted. “Sounds like someone wrote a song about you, McKay,” he teased.

But he, Elizabeth and Carson all noticed that Rodney’s face had blanched.

 

“ _I am the wisest woman you've ever met_

_I am the kindest soul with whom you've connected_

_I have the bravest heart that you've ever seen_

_And you've never met anyone as_

_As positive as I am sometimes …”_

 

“She has a lovely singing voice,” Carson commented lightly as he worked. “The most talking she’s done is when she’s accompanying the music. As much as I’d rather she take it easy on those ribs of hers, it’s nice to have a, _mostly_ , cooperative patient ‘round here.” He shot a look at John out of the corner of his eye.

 

“ _You see everything_

_You see every part_

_You see all my light_

_And you love my dark…”_

 

“Think you could hurry this up?” Rodney bit out sharply. His face had closed down, resembling granite as he obviously shoved his emotions deeply down.

 

“ _You dig everything_

_Of which I'm ashamed_

_There's not anything to which you can't relate_

_And you're still here…”_

 

Carson merely nodded as he finished carefully stitching the edges of the raw skin back together, tying off the ends and gently spreading some antibiotic ointment over the area before taping on another thick gauze pad.

He set aside his tools and snapped off his gloves before reaching into his pocket for a small bottle. “Here,” he handed the medication over. “Take two for the pain every four to six hours, and check in with me in the morning so I can make sure your stitches are holding.”

 

“ _I blame everyone else, not my own partaking_

_My passive aggressiveness can be devastating_

_I'm terrified and mistrusting_

_And you've never met anyone who's as_

_As closed down as I am sometimes…”_

 

“Thanks,” Rodney pocketed the pill bottle and rapidly exited the infirmary, Jessica’s husky alto seemingly chasing him from the room.

“Wonder why that freaked him out so much?” John wondered aloud.

“She’s been doing that often?” Elizabeth asked almost simultaneously.

“Aye,” Carson replied as he cleaned up. “Since the lass was so bored, the nurses got a few things together to entertain her. Madeline even loaned her iPod…”

“Wait, Nurse Ratchett?” John interrupted with widening eyes, “But… but she _hates_ everyone!”

“Nay, lad,” Carson failed to completely contain the chuckle rising. “She only hates how much you complain when you’re injured. You are quite the handful when you’re our guest, Major.”

“What can I say? I get cranky when I’m hurt,” John replied with a shrug. “Doesn’t help the mood when that woman uses me as her personal pin cushion.”

Elizabeth and Carson exchanged wry smiles as Jessica came to the end of the song.

John tipped his head to the side. “You’re right, Beckett. She _does_ have a nice voice. Can’t believe she’s able to sing like that with all those busted ribs.”

“Aye, I’ve been monitoring her progress, and must say she’s healing a lot faster than I thought’d be possible,” the doctor admitted.

“Carson?” Elizabeth frowned.

“I dinna know how she’s able to do it, but I could almost swear tha’ Jessica’s healing twice as fast as she should,” Carson finished cleaning up after himself, setting the last of his dirtied tools in the autoclave tray.

In the private room, Jessica started humming another song.

“What about that arm device thingie she’s been working on?” John asked.

Carson shrugged. “Dr. Simpson has’na been around for the past day or so. Last time she was here, she said they’d finished repairing the different units,” he replied. “An’ last I heard, Sergeant Bates had secured it all in the weapons’ locker.”

  
“Right,” John nodded. “He told me where he was keeping it. You said that one of the parts was a Goa’uld healing device, right?”

Carson nodded as he waved the other two towards his office. They all seated themselves before Carson pulled out the small leather pouch that he’d been keeping in his bottom desk drawer. “Would seem so, Major. Though from my understanding, even the Goa’uld couldn’t actually use it on themselves.”

“So there’s no way Dr. Monevata could have utilized the device on herself?” Elizabeth clarified.

“Aye.”

“What’s with the bag there?” John nodded to the well-worn leather that Carson was rubbing in between the fingers of his right hand.

“Seems t’be all the dog tags of Jessica’s teammates,” Carson replied softly. He pulled the ties open and tipped the contents into his left hand. “Interestingly enough, she has a set here as well.”

John held a hand out in inquiry, and the doctor leaned over the desk to tip the chains into the Major’s palm.

The Major almost reverently sifted through the tags, wondering what the other people had been like… how they’d worked as a team… how cohesive a unit they’d been. Had they all gotten along, or had they bickered like all happily dysfunctional families do? Like his “family” did?

“I wonder when Jessica will be able to tell us what happened to her unit,” Carson mused aloud. “I can only hope the poor lass wasn’t there t’see ‘em all die.”

John’s head rose sharply at that, and he narrowed his eyes at the doctor. “Why do you say that?”

Carson grimaced. “Lass’s been having some very vivid nightmares,” he replied with a sad note. “More times than I like we’ve had to sedate her t’get her through the panic attacks these dreams bring on.”

Elizabeth briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. “I didn’t realize they were that bad,” she murmured.

Carson could only nod. “Aye, and it’s pretty obvious that a few’a them died… well… quite badly,” he continued grimly. “Although Jessica won’t talk to Dr. Heightmeyer, she has opened up with me a wee bit, and it’s pretty clear she’s carrying a lot of guilt on her shoulders.”

John frowned thoughtfully. “She’s not military either, is she?”

“No,” Carson replied. “So I highly doubt she’s had the experience and training necessary to properly deal with these kinds of tragedies.”

“Actually,” Elizabeth spoke up, “she does.” At the others’ puzzled looks, she explained. “I worked with Jessica some years back when I was with the U.N. There had been reports of human rights violations in Tibet, and we'd been sent to observe and report our findings. We were in a small village at the base of the mountains, when a group of Chinese soldiers had a skirmish with some dissenters hiding there. We were caught in the crossfire, and Jessica was separated from our group for awhile.”

John and Carson listened intently as Elizabeth briefly recounted the next eight hours of chaos.

“When order had finally been established, Jessica had been found injured while saving a baby boy from being shot by the soldiers. Unfortunately, his parents weren’t so lucky.”

John nodded. He’d seen situations that had played out similarly; it seemed to be the same no matter where the battle was. Families were constantly ripped apart in war-torn countries…

“So she’s dealt with situations of conflict, then?” Carson quietly asked, and Elizabeth nodded.

“She’s one of the few linguists that had no qualms in being sent into combat situations,” the expedition leader replied. “But after Tibet, things changed a bit for Jessica. She adopted the little boy she'd saved in that village, and soon after left the U.N. to do civilian work stateside.”

“How long has she been a translator?” John asked.

“Since she was eighteen,” Elizabeth replied quietly, and the Major’s eyebrows rose.

“Wow. Wonder why she never enlisted?”

“I believe she had a birth defect,” Elizabeth tilted her head to the side as she tried to remember particulars.

“Well tha’ canna be,” Carson cut in. “Other than her extensive injuries, she’d be in the picture’a health.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I remember now. She had a pretty substantial heart murmur she needed to take medication for.”

“Do you remember what it was she took?” Carson leaned over his desk earnestly.

But Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Carson. Dr. Monevata wasn’t one to share personal information like that. I do know that she had an irregular heartbeat, though. I wouldn’t let her come with us unless I knew exactly what I could expect from her condition, especially since I wasn’t allowed to view her medical file in its entirety.”

Carson leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful scowl. “That’s odd,” he murmured.

“The not being able to read her full file, or the irregular heartbeat?” John asked, and Carson’s frown deepened.

“Both,” was the only response.

When he didn’t continue, John spoke up again. “And that’s… bad?”

The doctor rubbed a hand over his face, ending up absently scratching at the stubble on his cheek. “Well, considering I found absolutely no trace of any murmur with her heart… maybe?”

Elizabeth’s expression firmed. “This could mean she’s not who she says she is.”

Carson quickly rose from his chair. “I’ll need to run some tests.” He strode towards the door before swinging around and facing the other two. “I’ll keep you apprised of the results.”

Elizabeth and John stood as well. “As soon as you know anything, Carson, thank you.” Elizabeth nodded her head in her standard good-bye.

“And I’ll tell Bates to add another guard on Monevata’s room,” John added. “Or, whoever the hell she is.”

The three exited Carson’s office. “Let’s not jump to any rash conclusions,” Carson warned. “Jessica mentioned that she’d had quite a few rounds in a sarcophagus. Could be that her condition was corrected by the bloody thing.”

Elizabeth could only frown thoughtfully. She truly hoped that the woman residing in the infirmary was her friend.

 

 

 

Funeral song: Dante's Prayer by Loreena McKennitt:

“ _When the dark wood fell before me_

_And all the paths were overgrown_

_When the priests of pride say there is no other way_

_I tilled the sorrows of stone_

 

_I did not believe because I could not see_

_Though you came to me in the night_

_When the dawn seemed forever lost_

_You showed me your love in the light of the stars_ …

 

_Cast your eyes on the ocean_

_Cast your soul to the sea_

_When the dark night seems endless_

_Please remember me_ …

 

_Though we share this humble path, alone_

_How fragile is the heart_

_Oh give these clay feet wings to fly_

_To touch the face of the stars_

 

_Breathe life into this feeble heart_

_Lift this mortal veil of fear_

_Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears_

_We'll rise above these earthly cares_ …

 

_Cast your eyes on the ocean_

_Cast your soul to the sea_

_When the dark night seems endless_

_Please remember me_

_Please remember me_

_Please remember me_...”

 

Infirmary song: Head Over Heels by Alanis Morrissette


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica Monevata is definitely more than what she seems.  
> She's not altogether happy about that fact...

Jessica sat in her bed, poring over the schematics for the weapon’s satellite that Rodney, Dr. Zelenka and Dr. Grodin had been researching… and frowned. She typed in a few commands with her right hand, and then absently scratched at the skin around the edge of the cast on her left forearm. It had been a few days since the wounds from the compound fracture had healed enough for the standard cast to be placed, and already she could feel her skin itching for fresh air. She wondered if she would be allowed a pencil or some other long skinny object to dig at the maddening irritations under the cast.

 _Probably not_. One corner of her mouth quirked in wry humor. These people were still not completely certain that she was who she thought she was. If Carson hadn’t shown her the scans he’d taken of her brain and upper back, she would’ve been right there with the Atlanteans in their wondering.

Getting familiarized with Ancient technology was getting easier and easier now that Carson had weaned her off of the most potent of the painkillers and sleep aids. Everything about this floating “city” absolutely fascinated her, and she was dying to get out of the only room in the city she’d seen so far so she could explore.

But then again, that would entail faith on their part… more than they were prepared to give at this point, considering Jessica had two beefy guards at her door at all times.

She snorted. If past experience and her memory were accurate, two men weren’t enough to keep her contained if she really didn’t want it. She’d learned much about herself in the years she was on the run from the Goa’uld, and of the time she spent under that bitch Anat’s “care”…

Jessica shook her head in an attempt to dispel the gruesome nightmarish images brought up from her captivity with the sadistic Goa’uld queen.

The sudden motion disturbed the speaker buds she’d had in her ears, and Jessica suddenly became aware of a woman’s shout.

“I am feeding! I am _killing_ him!”

An icy frisson of fear crept into Jessica’s belly as she listened to the woman’s distraught cry.

Something beyond strange was happening in the main room of the infirmary. Jessica tentatively extended her awareness, and touched something… savage. _Hungry_. Her eyes widened, and she quickly slammed the walls down in her mind.

Nope, not gonna try _that_ again anytime soon.

 

oOo

 

Later that day, Jessica was thinking about whether or not she should make a bid for getting out of her bed and hopping to the bathroom instead of paging for a nurse when she heard Dr. Weir practically shout, “Wake her up… NOW!”

The Cheyenne shook her head, unbound raven hair swirling around her. Nope, not gonna check. Whatever it was that she’d touched earlier still had a part of her terrified, and she wondered if what was going on in the other room had anything to do with these Wraith. Jessica had a strong feeling that she didn’t want to be around when the creatures invaded Atlantis. But then again, she didn’t have much of a choice, and it wouldn’t be fair to try to make a bid for freedom and leave her benefactors to the mercy of those… _things_.

 

oOo

 

“NO!”

Jessica’s head whipped up from her pillow. Hmmm, she must’ve dozed off for a moment there.

“TEYLA!”

The Cheyenne’s eyes widened as she heard crashing noises from the main infirmary room. It sounded like someone was pitching furniture around in one hell of a hissy fit.

 _Or people_ , a small vicious voice in the back of her head pointed out.

Jessica carefully swiveled her legs off the side of the bed and gingerly lowered all of her weight on the good one.

The sound of electrical equipment being smashed drifted into the room, and Jessica felt an urgent sense of alarm grip her heart. Something was seriously FUBARed in the infirmary!

She managed to hobble to the door of her room, but was stopped by the outthrust arms of both of her guards.

Now Jessica could clearly hear someone being tossed across the main room. No one could mistake the sickening thud of flesh against an unyielding wall.

“The hell?” Jessica blurted.

“Get back in your room, Doctor,” the one guard growled. His face was pinched, betraying his desire to wade into the fray and help get whatever the situation was contained.

“But…”

The other man turned and gripped the Cheyenne’s uninjured arm tightly. “Here, let me help you, ma’am,” he stated firmly, and he practically picked up the slight woman and carried her back to her bedside. “Nothing for you to worry about, Doc. We’ve got everything under control.”

“No, you _don’t_ ,” Jessica bit out in frustration. Not even realizing what she was doing, she extended her mind once more, and touched the same feral entity she had earlier. Except this time, it was oh so much stronger.

And it was _pissed_.

She couldn’t stop herself from shouting out in alarm, and felt the presence hesitate a moment.

Then came the sound of an energy weapon being discharged, and Jessica felt the alien soul suddenly shudder.

But it didn’t go away entirely, and the energy weapon discharged again.

 _That_ did it!

But Jessica felt the backlash of the separation, and her head reeled in shock and disorientation. Her good knee folded under her, and the guard caught her full weight in his arms again as she fell against him. The world swirled nauseatingly around her, and Jessica felt herself blacking out.

“Ma’am? Ma’am?!” the soldier called to her, but Jessica couldn’t answer except for a low groan. “Hey, we need someone in here!” he called over his shoulder, and the other marine looked into the room before dashing down the short hallway to the main infirmary.

The inevitable happened as Jessica was overwhelmed by the strain of what she’d done. She passed out.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

  
“Care to explain yourself, young lady?”

Jessica briefly looked into the weary and seriously expectant eyes of the Chief Medical Officer. “Not at the moment.”

“Tough.” He crossed his arms and continued to almost-glare in concern at her. “Well?”

Jessica sighed heavily, resigning herself to the sharing of information she’d rather have kept quiet. As in forever. “The scans you did of my brain,” she offered quietly.

“Aye?”

“Showed a lot more activity than you consider ‘normal’,” she continued.

“ _Aye_?”

Jessica looked anywhere at the doctor, feeling supremely uncomfortable. “I can… _do_ things.”

Carson scowled thoughtfully. “What kinds of things?”

Jessica hesitated, and his expression softened. “I’m not gonna judge you, lass. There’ve always been strange things goin’ on ‘round here since we came to Atlantis.”

She couldn’t stop the wry snort from escaping. “No, really?”

Carson grinned lopsidedly. “So… what kinds of ‘things’ are you talkin’ about?”

Jessica’s face tightened. “I’ve always been able to… ‘read’ people before… before…”

“Before you and your team were attacked on that world,” Carson offered.

Jessica nodded around the sudden lump in her throat. “P9X-642. Yes.” She took a deep, steadying breath before she continued, her voice even quieter than before. “I guess you could call it a form of… empathy… and telepathy.”

“All right,” Carson gently prodded.

“It’s like I catch flashes… images… more of a gestalt, really… sometimes with specific thoughts, or feelings.”

“Aye.”

“Last year, I was captured by a group of Jaffa…” she trailed off, eyes wide and haunted and her face pale.

Carson sat down with a brief wince on the chair beside the hospital bed and took the woman’s hand gently. “Go on.”

She visibly gulped. “They experimented on me. Wanted to know why the Goa’uld they’d implanted had died.”

“It _died_?” Carson was struck mute.

She nodded once. “They stuck it in me, it was in control for a few days, and then…” she pulled her hand from Carson’s grasp and waved it limply. “It withered up and died.” Her troubled gaze rose to meet Carson’s briefly, before dropping once again and focusing on a spot on the far wall. “Hurt like hell, too.”

“Oh lass…” Carson didn’t know what to say. But it _did_ explain how the poor woman had the scar and the strong traces of Naquadah in her system, but no symbiote.

“They wanted to know why that happened. Don’t think they ever figured it out, though they did mention something about ‘Old Ones’,” she whispered. “Then they wanted to see what they could tweak in me. Just for shits and giggles, I guess.” Jessica shuddered violently, not realizing that she had grabbed and squeezed Carson’s hand. “Please, could we not talk about this any more?”

“Aye, lass, I think that’s fine for now. But I’d love to know what you did back there… when Teyla…”

Jessica shook her head sharply and refocused on the doctor. “Yes, what exactly _did_ happen out there?” she asked. “It felt like there was a…” Words seemed to fail her, and she again waved her hand. “Monster here. It… _hungered_. And it was so furious.”

Carson blinked. “Interesting way to put it,” he replied blandly. “Aye, t’was a Wraith, but it was bein’… well, for lack of a better word… ‘channeled’ through Teyla.”

“She’s psychic?”

“No. Well, sort’a.” Carson scratched his neck. “It’s a wee bit complicated.”

The corner of Jessica’s mouth quirked. “Sounds familiar.” But all traces of humor disappeared quickly. “I think I’ve felt something like that… before.”

“What?” Carson’s expression grew wary.

“That, Wraith?” Jessica looked to the doctor for confirmation before she continued. “A week or so ago. I know I was still a little out of it, but I swear I felt something… tickle me.”

“’Tickle’ you?”

The Cheyenne grimaced. “It’s not the clearest way of defining it, but it was like I’d felt a presence, at the edge of my consciousness.” She waved her free hand about as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “It’s not like I’ve ever talked to anyone about what I can do. Well, not willingly.”

“I’m sure it’s not easy.”

She snorted softly. “Just as easy as it is for your Teyla to be hearing voices in her head.”

Carson didn’t reply, but just watched the woman contemplatively. He was definitely going to have to say something to Dr. Weir about this conversation. If Dr. Monevata was right, then there might be a Wraith on Atlantis. But the problem was… could she truly be trusted?

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

Rodney McKay was beyond tired… beyond even exhaustion. He didn’t think he’d ever been this weary before, and absently wondered if this lack of sleep would adversely affect his hypoglycemia.

‘ _Hmmm, when was the last time I ate something?’_ he wondered. He felt around in the pockets of his uniform and came up with an ever-present power bar. He ripped it open with his teeth as he pored over the final schematics for the Lagrangian Point defense satellite. Since they’d been able to tweak an extra twenty percent power output in the Naquadah generators, he figured this insane plan might actually work.

“Hunh, insane is what this whole place is about,” he muttered to himself.

Dr. Zelenka’s head popped out from behind an open access panel in the Jumper. “What was that, Rodney?”

The chief scientist merely waved his half-eaten power bar at the Czech. “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

“Ale jdete,” Radek grumbled. “You do that too much, má druh.” He twisted around to grab a spare cable before sticking his head and arms back into the open panel above him.

“And you’re reverting, _my friend_ ,” Rodney almost snapped back. “English, Zelenka!”

“Tebe dovídat se mne ujde to.”

“Close enough.”

Radek coughed his surprise from behind the cover. “How long were you going to keep that from me?”

The corner of Rodney’s mouth curled into his trademark smirk. “Until I heard all of the creative things you call me.”

The Czech chuckled. “Oh, believe me, you haven’t heard worst of it.”

“’Napolean’s bastard seed’?”

Silence…

“’Genghis Khan on PCP’?”

“Ah, well, you see…”

“Wait, there’s worse than _that_?” Rodney couldn’t hide the full-scale grin now. “Really, Radek, surely you can come up with more inventive insults.”

“Rodney, stop torturing the help,” John Sheppard’s amused voice drifted into the Jumper.

“What? We’re just talking.”

“Yes, we were discussing…”

“Our favorite astrophysicists’ kinder and gentler side?” John leaned against the back wall and watched the two scientists continue their work.

“You could say that,” Radek’s voice echoed his grin as well.

“So how’s it all coming?” John wished he could order both of the men to go get some much-needed sleep, as they looked even worse than he knew they felt, but there just wasn’t enough time in the day, unfortunately. At least they took power naps.

And the Major made sure that they both ate. He’d also had his men, the ones who weren’t helping in the evacuation efforts, looking out for the other feverishly working scientists. He’d learned in his time as C.O. on Atlantis that the geeks and the grunts worked so much better together if they were all treated as equals. Or as equal as they could be in their relevant specialties. You give respect to your geek, then the geek respected your commands when you had to give them.

Rodney looked up from his laptop. “Is there something we can do for you, Major?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” John held out a platter holding two steaming bowls and two mugs of…

“Is that coffee?” Radek’s eyes gleamed in immediate lust over the brew.

John merely smiled as both men practically dropped what they were doing and rushed to snatch up the coffee cups. _‘Like Pavlov’s dog…’_

“Where did you…”

“Privileges of rank, my caffeine-deprived friends.” John neglected to say that he’d ferreted out the stash that Rodney had hidden in his quarters a few months back, and had appropriated a third for just such an emergency. He'd known his friend wouldn’t be able to stretch it out this long.

Radek also gathered one of the bowls and sniffed it. “Smells like stew,” he approved with a weary smile, and moved to one of the open spaces in the back of the Jumper to consume his late meal.

“Stew?” Rodney wrinkled his nose at the thought. “I’ll stick with the Power Bar, thanks.”

“ _Urmph_ , it’s actually… quite good,” Radek commented in between mouthfuls.

“And somehow that reassures me even less. I’ve seen what your people eat on a daily basis,” Rodney retorted with a pained grimace.

“It’s Athosian,” John explained. “With the last of the Earth veggies. Tastes like what mom used to make.” He held out the tray to Rodney. “Doc’s orders, McKay. Lay off the Power Bars and eat some real food for once.”

Rodney rolled his eyes dramatically. “Fine, fine. I’m sure there was also the threat of an IV involved if I refused?”

“You know the doc well.” John smiled sweetly.

Rodney snorted, scooped up the warm bowl and sat down on the floor in front of his beloved laptop. John noticed that the clutched mug of coffee was already half gone. “Guess he’s suffering from withdrawal since I haven’t graced his presence in the infirmary all that much lately.” He eyed the bowl’s contents disdainfully. “My mother never cooked anything like _this_ ,” he complained.

“What, no stew over the cold winters?” John teased.

“As a matter of fact, no. Soup, yes, but then again, my father was more of a meat and potatoes kind of man.” He grimaced again, but John couldn’t tell if it was from a memory or the Athosian gumbo.

“So, when do you guys think everything’ll be ready for the trip to the satellite?” John asked.

“It’s what… one am already?” Rodney glanced at his watch with a little surprise. “Give me another hour to double-check the plans Zelenka and Grodin came up with…”

Radek cleared his throat a little nervously, causing John to look over at the slighter man with a raised eyebrow.

“And we should be fine for leaving around… eight?” Rodney finished uninterrupted, having missed the other men’s reactions.

“So, 0800 then?” John swung his attention back to his friend. At Rodney’s curt nod, he continued. “Then I’ll notify the others that the mission’s a go. McKay, you’ll meet Grodin and Miller in the meeting room for a mission briefing at 0730, all right?”

“Fine, fine,” Rodney waved his spoon in John’s direction. He’d already shoveled his way through half of the bowl’s contents. “You’re right, Zelenka. This is almost… tasty. I might actually _not_ suffer from food poisoning.”

Radek merely smiled in long-suffering tolerance of his friend’s constant complaints. In such a troubling and unsettled time, it was comforting to know that some things never changed. He exchanged a knowing look with John, who seemed to understand his thoughts.

 

 

#### Czech:

má druh: my friend

Ale jdete: You don’t say so

Tebe dovídat se mne ujde to: You understand me well enough.

Ano: Yes


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All non-English languages used in this story, except for Cheyenne, have been translated from English using an online translator. I know it's not right. Sorry. 
> 
> The Cheyenne, however, is from a very helpful website dedicated to learning of the Cheyenne people & their traditions. http://www.cheyennelanguage.org/
> 
> If nothing else, I hope you take away from this story a new thirst to learn of the Natives of the Americas. They are a truly fascinating and completely underrepresented people in American culture.

Dr. Zelenka strode into the infirmary with his laptop tucked under his arm. One of the nurses noticed his entrance and smiled.

“Dr. Zelenka,” she greeted him warmly. “Here to visit with Jessica?”

“ _Ano_. Is she able to see me now?”

“Of course,” the nurse gestured for him to follow her. “She’s been asking if there was anything else she could help you and the others with.” They walked through the main infirmary and into the small hallway that contained the isolation and specialized care rooms. She nodded at the two guards standing on either side of the door before activating the opening mechanism and knocking gently on the frame. “Jess, you have a visitor.”

Jessica looked up from the notebook she’d been writing in, and a pleased expression washed over her face. “Dr. Zelenka,” she nodded, and waved him over to the third chair in the room… the other two occupied by her and her broken leg and placed by the light panel pretending to be a decorative window.

“How are you feeling today?” Radek inquired politely. He’d taken a bit of a shine to the quiet, yet sad woman in the brief times he’d spent with her. While they didn’t discuss much other than their work, he’d found himself enjoying her company. She was pleasant and soothing in counterpoint to Rodney’s constantly abrasive mood lately. Not to mention she knew how to speak Radek’s mother tongue.

“Horrifically bored,” she smiled back as the nurse waved and left them to their visit. “Sucks having nothing to do.” She tapped the unlined notebook, and Radek could just barely see that she’d been drawing a picture.

He chuckled as he sat down beside her. “Then you will appreciate my present,” he replied.

“Not the laptop?”

He shook his head. “No, no, but I do have a problem.” At the inquisitive tilting of her head, he explained. “You have no doubt seen how vast Ancient database is, yes?”

“Enough to know it’ll take years to sift through it all,” she nodded.

“We may not have that much time,” Radek returned sadly. “We might have to evacuate Atlantis if we can not keep Wraith away.”

Jessica’s chestnut eyes widened slightly. “Not enough power for the city’s shield?” she asked softly.

“No. We have not found ZedPM,” he agreed. “So now Dr. Weir and I must come up with way to back up Ancient database and then destroy it in case worst happens…”

“And the Wraith take over the city,” Jessica sighed. “From what I could see of Rodney’s compression program, there’s nothing that can be done to strengthen it. It’s as powerful as it can be with the equipment we have.”

“I was afraid you would say that,” Radek frowned. “My initial calculations say we will only be able to save about eight percent of entire database. Maybe nine.”

“Ouch,” Jessica winced. “What can I do to help then?”

“If Wraith gain control of city, and we are forced to abandon Atlantis, then we must wipe out Ancient database.”

“You want a virus?” the Cheyenne asked thoughtfully. Already Radek could see her running calculations in her mind.

“I would most appreciate any suggestions you might have,” he replied. “There is so much to do, and I could use the help.”

Jessica’s eyes refocused on the Czech, and she switched to his mother tongue. “Proč věříš mi to?”

 

“Já domnívat se tebe ar hoden ze depozitum.” He seemed to surprise her with his sincerity.

Jessica’s gaze dropped to her lap, where her free hand picked at the cast on her left arm. “I am… honored.”

Radek reached over and gently tilted her head up so he could meet her gaze. “It is I who should be thanking you for your assistance, má druh. You have done so much for us already.”

Jessica blinked away extra moisture in her eyes. “You haven’t told them about my part with the satellite yet, have you?”

“No. I figure, let them think I am as smart as McKay for awhile, yes?” he chuckled.

Jessica’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “You are,” she replied softly. “But even geniuses need help sometimes.”

Radek sighed, and began to type on his laptop. “True enough. Now, I have a few thoughts on what would work best…” he shifted back into work mode, and the two began to plan the destruction of Atlantis.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

Radek left not much later, promising to return again in the evening with a snack and more companionship. Jessica continued working throughout the day, not noticing the regular checks the nurses and the doctor-on-duty made as she typed away on her borrowed laptop.

It felt wonderful to feel needed and useful. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to be a part of a group of people working towards the same goal… even if it was survival.

She was listening to Nurse Madeline’s iPod and subconsciously singing along with the music, rapidly typing out code on the laptop, when she sensed people rushing into the main infirmary. Jessica cocked her head to one side and extended her mind towards the group of medical personnel. She touched Nurse Saito, and picked up that one of the Sergeants had been seriously injured, and was unconscious.

Jessica quickly withdrew into herself, saved the work she’d just finished, and pushed the computer to the table beside her bed. Somehow she needed to get her hand gear back into her possession. Things were only going to get worse in Atlantis, and she wanted to be prepared to help out when…

‘ _When the Wraith arrive,’_ she thought forlornly. The last thing she was going to do was sit in this blasted room and wait when she could make herself much more useful in defending the infirmary, at the very least.

oOo

 

A few hours later, Jessica was taking a break and meditating when she felt Dr. Beckett approaching her room. She frowned. He felt… _off_. Disturbed. And deeply worried.

She raised her head and watched the doctor enter her room. “Are you all right, Carson?” she asked.

Carson blinked at the younger woman. “Now why would you be asking me that, lass?”

Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re very worried about something.”

“Ah, picked up on that, did you?” he sighed, and came over to check the Cheyenne’s shoulder. The staff wound had almost completely healed, but he wanted to make sure that the skin wouldn’t scar much. Then there was her collarbone. It was bloody difficult to break that particular bone, and when one did, it took forever to heal properly... even for someone healing as quickly as she.

“Is there something I can do to help?” She winced when he gently probed the area under the collar of her T-shirt. “Ow.”

Carson smiled sympathetically. “I know it smarts, but I need to make sure it’s healing properly. I dinna like how much you’re moving your arm these past few days.”

“I’ve kept it in the immobilizer,” she protested.

“True, true, and I wish all of my patients were as cooperative as you are,” Carson replied with a smile. “But dinna think I haven’t seen you tryin’ to type with that hand.”

“It’s faster,” she winced again as Carson finished manipulating the muscle around her shoulder. “Supremely frustrating to write code at half speed.”

“What exactly are you workin’ on anyway?” Carson tilted his head as he moved his attention to the cast on Jessica’s leg.

“That would be program for me,” Radek replied from the doorway. “Oops.” He grimaced in apology as Carson regarded what he was carrying – a plate of cookies.

The C.M.O. merely raised an eyebrow with a small smirk. “I see the cooking staff’s been holdin’ out on the flour,” he remarked in a mild tone.

Jessica’s eyes widened. “Is that oatmeal?” she asked in wonder. “Those are my favorite. How did you know?”

Radek grinned. “Little birdy,” he replied as he crossed the room and offered the plate to Carson. “Only fair to share now that you know.”

Carson took one with a nod of thanks. “Must say I’m partial to these myself. I thought there weren’t enough of the old supplies to make cookies.” He eyed Radek questioningly.

The scientist grinned. “I have my ways,” he replied.

Jessica chuckled softly. “In other words, he sweet talked the one cook out of her secret stash.”

Radek blinked in surprise. “I think I am scared to ask how you knew that.”

“I also have my ways,” she smiled, and Carson exchanged a knowing look with the woman.

“Yes, definitely won’t ask,” Radek murmured. He set the plate down on the rolling table beside the bed and plopped down with a sigh on the chair next to it.

“Long day, huh?” Jessica asked while Carson went back to finishing his exam.

“Ano.” He shook his head in weariness. “So much to do, so little time. How was your day?”

The Cheyenne flashed a supportive smile at the scientist. “Productive, actually. I think I might have the basis for your program.” She stopped and looked at Carson. “Um, Doctor, you won’t tell anyone that I’m helping Radek out with something, will you?”

Carson paused in his manipulation of her right foot to look his question at her. “Why would I do that, lass?”

Her expression fell a little as she sobered. “I know how little I’m trusted by most people here,” she replied quietly. “Until you have a way of verifying my identity, I could be some sort of spy for all you know.”

Carson smiled reassurance at her. “I for one dinna think that.”

“A very patient spy,” she murmured as her gaze dropped to her lap.

Radek laid a gentle hand on Jessica’s arm. “Do you really think spy would injure herself as much as you’d been just to get into Atlantis?”

She looked up at him tentatively. “I don’t know… would they?”

Carson patted the woman’s foot as he straightened up. “No one that we’ve met.”

Suddenly Jessica’s head reared up, and her startled eyes focused on the doctor. Her mouth worked, but nothing came out.

“Jessica? Má druh, drahá paní, co to je?”

 

“They really _are_ here, aren’t they?” she whispered harshly. Carson could only nod as he realized what she was asking. “I’m so sorry,” she continued.

“Sorry? What could you be sorry about?” Radek was completely confused now.

Carson tore his gaze away from Jessica’s to focus on his friend. “A Wraith is here on Atlantis,” he replied softly. “It was what attacked Sgt. Bates.”

Radek paled. “Have you told Dr. Weir?”

“Aye,” Carson nodded. “I dinna know if there’s just one, or if there are more.”

“No, just one,” Jessica whispered. “Unless the others are staying out of range the whole time.”

The Czech scientist leaned forward intently. “You are telling me you _knew_ there was a Wraith here?”

Jessica grimaced and nodded, once. “I sensed it weeks ago. Off and on since the first time.”

“So, you’re psychic. Like Teyla.” Radek’s face was inscrutable.

“Not something I felt would ingratiate me to the military contingent,” she replied quietly.

Radek turned to look at Carson. “You knew?”

“Aye,” the doctor replied. “I promised to keep it between her and I… although…” he trailed off uncertainly.

“You told Elizabeth,” Jessica affirmed. “If anyone knows how to be discrete, it’s her.” She smiled a little to let the C.M.O. know she wasn’t upset with him.

“How long have you had this… ability?” Radek looked more intrigued than upset, which allowed the Cheyenne to relax slightly.

“All my life,” she replied. “Though it got much stronger after…” she hesitated as a complex expression of loathing, hate, sadness and fury briefly crossed her features. “After I was, experimented on, by a Goa’uld queen.” She hugged herself at the memories she’d just awakened.

“Ach, I am sorry, má druh.” Radek patted her arm in a soothing manner.

“Sorry,” she apologized as her shoulders shook minutely. “Memories are still a bit raw from that whole experience. That’s what we were escaping from when Seshat and I came here.”

“Aye, you never did say what you were doing with another Goa’uld,” Carson changed the subject slightly to get his patient’s mind off of her troubling memories. He had a feeling she’d need a powerful sleep aid tonight, and he made a mental note to start encouraging the woman once again to talk to someone… _any_ one… about her experiences, as he was worried about how she still didn’t seem to be able to cope with them.

She shook her head. “She was Tok’ra,” she replied. “She’d been undercover in Anat’s service for years when I came along, and Seshat felt I had much to offer the Resistance with my… gifts…” she rolled the last word around in her mouth as if it tasted foul. “At some point I should notify them about what happened to her and Tirel. They deserve to know.”

“Aye, lass, we’ll see what we can do,” Carson reassured her.

“Well…” Radek spoke up. He hesitated. Part of his mind was already trying to figure out if they could find a way to track the Wraith scout’s movements in the city.

Jessica nodded. “Yes, that is, if we all survive the Wraith,” she acknowledged his unspoken concern softly.

Radek and Carson looked at each other in disquiet. The three finished their snack in silence, the weight of the knowledge they carried dimming their enjoyment of the rare treat.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

After the cookies were gone (some of them sacrificed to the two soldiers at Jessica’s door), Radek pulled up Jessica’s laptop to go over her virus program while Carson led her on her daily physical therapy walk. Since she had broken her left arm and right leg, it made getting around with crutches almost impossible, so she used one under her right arm as her leg was awkwardly stretched out before her. But it was more important that she strengthen her other muscles and not let them atrophy while her bones mended, so Carson and Dr. Mengalar, one of the physical therapists on the medical staff, worked with the woman daily. She was getting fairly adept at hobbling around, but she still had a tendency to list to the left when trying to travel in a straight line.

When the two returned twenty minutes later, Jessica had worked up a light sweat and was weary, yet happy to be temporarily free from her room. Only one of the guards had accompanied her and Carson on their stilted trek, which was an improvement and a testament to the doctor’s authority. Carson had stated quite plainly a few days previously that although his patient was healing rapidly, she was still in no shape to attempt escape or even to attack anyone, and he snapped at Sgt. Stackhouse that he “highly doubted the lass could stand on one leg and single-handedly take down two seasoned marines.”

She wisely kept her mouth shut on that one.

“Ah, Radek, you’re still here?” Carson greeted the Czech scientist. He helped Jessica hobble over to the bed and settle herself on it before fetching a basin of fresh water, soap and a washcloth for her to freshen up.

Radek finished his rapid-fire typing and shot a triumphant grin at the Cheyenne linguist. “Yes, and I do believe we are close to finished product,” he announced proudly. At the woman’s intrigued look, he handed her the laptop for her inspection.

She scanned over the code rapidly, and a smile washed over her weary face. “I believe you’re right,” she replied. But her enthusiasm faded when she remembered what the program was for. “I hope you don’t have to use it.”

“I as well, má druh,” Radek returned gently. “But still, if it comes to it, at least we’ll know Wraith will not get any vital information from Ancient database.” He ran his hands over his face in an attempt to enervate himself. “Now, I really must take this to my people. Still have much to prepare for.” He quickly connected Jessica’s borrowed laptop to his and transferred the program. When it signaled its completion, he gathered his things to leave. “I shall leave you to rest.”

Radek walked to the door and turned. “And Jessica…”

She smiled at him. “Please, my friends call me Jess.”

Radek returned the smile. “Thank you, Jess.”

“I only wish I could’ve done more,” she replied with a gentle nod.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

The rest of the day became a bit of a blur for Jessica after Radek had left, as she had felt when the Wraith spy was stunned, captured, and thrown in the brig. Despite her negative experience touching the consciousness of the one Teyla had channeled, the Cheyenne was curious about these strange aliens. She extended her mind to where the creature was being held, careful not to directly connect with him.

Problem was, he was completely aware of her presence, and kept trying to link up with her. Jessica was worried about what would happen if he succeeded, but yet she couldn’t completely pull away. She was intrigued by the very nature of this alien… how feral and yet intelligent he was. Haughty too, as if he believed that the humans he had been captured by were mere… cattle to him.

Jessica snorted. “Moo,” she muttered to the empty room, and returned to monitoring what was happening in the brig. She recognized the entrance of a man and woman to the room. _‘Ah, Major Sheppard. And Teyla Emmagan?’_

She didn’t expect the Athosian would attempt to connect with the Wraith’s mind… nor the Major to shoot the Wraith captive. When she felt the pain flare up in the alien, she couldn’t help but to experience it as well… even peripherally, it felt quite different from the times she’d been shot. Almost like the sting from a needle, really. Strange…

“ _My wounds will heal,”_ she heard the Wraith growl in her mind.

But when the Major kept riddling the Wraith’s body with bullets, Jessica noticed that the seemingly inconsequential pain began to flare out of its control. She realized almost too late that it was dying, and desperately tried to remove herself from the edge of the Wraith’s mind.

It didn’t want her to go.

“ _Those who feed upon you will know what you’ve done to me.”_

Oh shit. This was bad.

“ _I will tell you this: no matter where you flee, we will find you -- just as surely as we will find Earth. And when we do, we will_ _ **feast**_ _.”_

Oh shit shit shit shit _shit_ shit shit. This was beyond bad.

Jessica was so wrapped up in what was happening to… Bob? that she didn’t hear the citywide announcement that a heavily saddened Elizabeth Weir was making. The Cheyenne was too busy desperately trying to disengage herself from the dying Wraith soldier.

She was failing. She felt the panic rising in her as the alien doggedly held onto her consciousness, and she screamed. “NO!”

Her body had slid down from her sitting position on the bed, and she writhed with the pain of the Wraith’s death throes. It might not have showed Major Sheppard and the others witnessing its death how much it was hurting, but it sure as hell shared everything with Jessica… in surround-sound smell-o-vision.

She barely noticed nurses and one of the infirmary’s doctors rushing into her room at one of her guard’s shouts of alarm. She felt the blackness encroaching on her as the Wraith gurgled its final breath, and her lungs refused to work out of sympathy.

Jessica wasn’t able to finish her last thought. _‘You are so_ _ **not**_ _taking me with you, you son of a…’_

And then the darkness consumed everything.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

Jessica felt herself being pulled one way, then another, in the black. She wondered if she were floating on a raft in the ocean, and then what ocean she was on, exactly. _‘So many worlds, so many oceans,’_ she thought. When was the last time she went swimming… just for fun?

She went along with the tide, not having the energy to fight it right then. She wasn’t even sure what was going on. Where was she again? How did she get there? Was she alone?

Murmuring voices answered that last question for her. Nope, definitely not alone. _‘Who’s there?’_ Jessica called out, but no one replied.

She’d always despised that feeling of not knowing what was going on, but she’d also learned over the course of her life that sometimes you just had to be patient and wait for more information to reveal itself. So she relaxed as best she could and tried to expand her awareness of her surroundings.

The voices grew louder and coalesced into faint but recognizable words.

“How long has she been like this?”

“Since yesterday. She had some sort of attack, but we have no idea what set her off.”

“What do the test results say?”

“Inconclusive. As far as we can tell, there’s no reason why she should have seized. We had to use the crash cart; she coded twice before we could stabilize her.”

“Well, in any case, I have her complete medical file for Dr. Beckett. As well as some personal effects that were sent along.”

Jessica could hear paper rustling, and heard someone approach her side. She wondered what was going on, and could feel memories tickling the edge of her conscious mind.

“He’ll be happy to know that this is really Dr. Monevata. We were all a little worried about that.”

“You never can be too careful these days.”

Jessica’s one eyelid was pried open, and a penlight flashed, blinding her. She flinched away.

“Well, not only am I getting a pupil response, it seems you’ve decided to rejoin us, my dear.” The bright light moved away, and the Cheyenne dragged open her other eye to focus blearily on Nurse Akiko Saito… and a man in military gear.

Jessica blinked, not having the energy yet to speak.

“Good morning, Dr. Monevata,” the marine greeted her seriously. “I hear you’ve had yourself quite an adventure.”

Jessica snorted as a corner of her mouth weakly twisted into a wry smile. Her expression clearly stated _‘No shit’._

“As soon as you’re feeling up to it, I need to debrief you on the events of the last three years, doctor,” the man continued. “Since your identity is no longer in question, you’ll be free to move around Atlantis… once we’ve dealt with the Wraith, that is.”

Jessica blinked again, and frowned in confusion. She opened her parched mouth to speak, but could only grate out “Wha?” before being seized by a coughing fit.

Nurse Saito raised the head of the bed enough that she could easily guide a cup of water to her patient’s mouth. “Now now, Jess, don’t try speaking just yet. We almost had to intubate you last night. I’m sure your throat’s still quite irritated. You’d been screaming an awful lot.”

The Cheyenne drank almost half of the cup before her throat did indeed feel better. “Don’… ‘member…” she managed.

The nurse tilted her head to the side. “What happened? You were working on the laptop when you had some sort of attack,” she began. “The only thing we could get out of you was the name Bob.”

“Bob?” Jessica’s eyebrows bunched together as she searched her elusive memory. She glanced at the marine, who shrugged.

“I just got here,” he informed her with a small shrug, which confused Jessica even more. What did he mean by that?

It was then that it came back to her. “Wraith…” she whispered harshly, her breath hitching in her throat.

The other two didn’t reply, waiting, as it was obvious that Jessica was trying to say something more.

“Felt him… die…” Jessica ground out. “Tried to… take me… with him.”

The nurse shot the marine beside her an almost panicked look out of the corner of her eye, and soothed her distressed patient. “No, dear, there were no Wraith here. No one tried to kill you. You had some sort of attack, and we almost lost you. Look, you need to rest. Do you want a sedative?” She moved a hand towards a tray resting beside the bed, with a few prepped syringes waiting for deployment.

Jessica caught on to the warning in the nurses’ eyes and minutely shook her head. “Must’ve been a… nightmare. Tired…” she affirmed, and closed her eyes. So far only four people knew about her now enhanced abilities. In her panic from suddenly remembering the previous days’ events, she’d practically blurted out her secret to a complete stranger. Sighing, listening to the hushed conversation between Akiko and the marine, Jessica relaxed and allowed sleep to wash over her.

 

She didn’t wake again until much later in the day, when Dr. Beckett came in to check on her.

“Oi, love, I heard you’d woken up earlier,” he greeted her wearily, noticing that Jessica had already regained enough strength to sit up and tentatively eat some Jell-o. “How are you feeling?” He also noticed that she’d changed into a gray spaghetti-strap shirt from the small box of personal effects that had been sent with the Marines from Earth. It proudly proclaimed, ‘The gene pool needs more chlorine.’

The linguist looked up and did a mental double-take at the worn-out appearance of her friend. “Much better than you, apparently.”

Carson snorted as he moved to her side to check her chart. “I dinna know if anyone’s told you yet, but we’ve got visitors from home,” he began, and Jessica nodded.

“Akiko brought me up to date when she got my… lunch,” she indicated the rather large bowl of red Jell-o and a mostly finished mug of broth.

“How’s your head? Goupin’?”

Jessica blinked in confusion at the doctor.

“Ah, sorry, lass, tend to slip when I’m tired. Was askin’ if your head was hurtin’?”

The Cheyenne shrugged. “Not as much. And don’t worry about it. Just took a moment to remember what coupin’ meant.” She smiled.

“You know… ?”

Jessica nodded. “My college roommate was from Dundee. I picked up some of the vernacular, and some interesting swearing, from her.” Her grin widened at Carson’s chuckle. “Dinna fash yoursel’ laddie. Y’know, tha’ numpty pie eater Calvin Kavanagh is a righ’ bloody Jobby jabber,” she said with a dead-on accent, and after a moment of shocked silence, Carson burst out laughing.

“Ah, lass, you do me good,” he patted her good arm as he continued to chuckle. “An’ tha’ wasna verra nice slaggin’ such rubbish ‘bout Dr. Kavanagh.” His brogue thickened briefly.

Jessica couldn’t contain her chuckle. “That’s why I said it. If he ever heard me call him a poof, he’d blow a gasket. Never could understand why some people feel threatened by that sort of thing. Still, it’s better than some of what he called me in Russia. Bit of a nutter, he is.” And she winked. “Bloody plamph.”

Carson merely shook his head. “An’ somehow I get the feelin’ you dinna like the man,” he grinned. “Now, you just said you worked with the Russians?” he changed the subject, curious as to something, and Jessica nodded. “Is that where you met Rodney too?”

The Cheyenne’s expression sobered. “Hm.”

When she didn’t elaborate, he pressed on. “You had a difficult time workin’ together, didn’t you?”

A red flush crept up her cheeks towards her ears, and Jessica ducked her head behind a shimmering curtain of raven hair. “Actually, we got along quite well. Until I had to leave.”

Carson blinked, taken aback at what the younger woman seemed to be implying. “Ah, well then,” he verbally stumbled, and an almost uncomfortable silence reigned in the room until Nurse Saito entered.

“How’s your lunch coming along, dear?” she asked before she noticed Carson. “Dr. Beckett!” she smiled in greeting. “How went the test with Dr. McKay?”

Carson ducked his head in embarrassment. “Not well, but at least I did’na fire missiles at anyone this time,” he replied in quiet shame.

“Don’t tell me… Rodney’s scintillating personality?” Jessica quipped lightly, and the other two smiled.

“Nay, lass. I’m just very uncomfortable around weapons,” Carson admitted.

The nurse cleaned up the remnants of Jessica’s lunch and went about tidying up the room. “Now, young lady, I expect you to take a nap very soon. You’re still worn out from yesterday’s episode, and you need your rest.”

Jessica laughed quietly. “Yes mom.” She looked at the various leads and active monitors beside the bed as she fingered one of the electrodes stuck to her temples. “If I’m a good girl, will I be freed from some of these machines later?”

Carson checked the readouts. “As long as you don’t go trying to read minds,” he replied seriously. “That was too close for my liking.”

“Mine too,” Jessica said in a low voice. She slid down in the bed as the other two reclined the head slightly, and she gave in to the weariness tugging at her. She listened to Carson and Akiko quietly finishing up their business in the room, and allowed her thoughts to wander.

Something brushed against the edges of her mind, and Jessica startled. _‘What the…’_ She frowned, and waited to see if she felt it again.

There! Another one!

And another… _‘Oh, shit…’_

Before they could fully notice her, Jessica tried to slam down the walls in her mind.

Beside the bed, one of the machines she was hooked up to began to trill as her pulse leapt into the triple digits.

Akiko shot a startled look at Carson and moved closer to their suddenly rigid and tense patient. “Jessica… what’s wrong?” This rapid change was unlike anything she’d dealt with before.

Jessica’s head writhed on the pillow, her long hair getting gnarled from her struggles. “W-wraith…” she panted, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She could feel at least one of them trying to pry his way into her mind, and she wasn’t having any of it. What _was_ it with these twits and their fascination with her brain?

“We know all about the Wraith coming, lass,” Carson soothed. “Dinna worry, Bob’s gone. You’re safe for the moment…”

But Jessica shook her head. No, that wasn’t what she meant! “No… here… they’re _here!_ ” She could _feel_ them, intruding on the edges of her mind. More than one! She cursed her weakness at not being able to effectively communicate to the others, and her pulse and blood pressure soared. More monitors began to call out their distress in tandem with hers, and Carson and Akiko quickly moved to calm down the agitated woman. The doctor completely flattened the bed as the nurse injected a sedative into Jessica’s IV, and the linguist felt the drug’s immediate effects pulling her into darkness.

“No!” she cried out feebly as she was dragged under.

 

Teyla ran through the corridors of Atlantis, utilizing the transport system to attain her goal more quickly. She rushed into the Gate room, only to be grabbed by two of the marines on duty.

“Whoa there, missy, no unauthorized personnel,” the one new arrival growled in warning.

But Teyla was not to be easily dissuaded. “Let me pass!” She looked up at the Control Room, and saw Colonel Everett, Major Sheppard and Dr. Weir moving towards the balcony. “I need to talk to Dr. Weir!” she snapped at the marines still restraining her.

Elizabeth moved more into the Athosian’s line of sight. “Teyla? What’s the matter?”

Out of breath from her rush, the Athosian warrior panted a little before replying. “The Wraith… they are in Atlantis.”

“Oh crap,” John murmured, and finally the two marines released their hold on Teyla.

 

When the call came to the infirmary, notifying them that security was being increased to pertinent areas and all staff were being restricted to their quarters, Carson felt a chill settle in his gut. _This_ was what Jessica had been attempting to tell them. She wasn’t having a belated panic attack from the Wraith’s death the other night… she’d been trying to warn them of _more_.

 

 

 

 

Czech:

Ano: Yes

Proč věříš mi to: Why do you trust me with this?

Já domnívat se tebe ar hoden ze depozitum: I suspect you are worthy of trust

Má druh, drahá paní, co to je: My dear woman, what’s the matter?

 


	8. Chapter 8

Jessica fought the comforting pull of sleep, clawing her way towards consciousness. There was something she desperately needed to do.

She bolted to a halfway sitting position, crying out “Wraith!”

“It is all right, Jess. They know,” a woman’s voice soothed as she rested her hand gently over the younger woman’s on the bed.

Jessica blinked. “Ch-Charin?”

“Yes, child.” The elderly Athosian woman smiled as she gently guided the panting Cheyenne back onto the pillows. “Everything is being taken care of. They are searching the city now, and have guards on all the necessary areas.”

Jessica tried to relax and slow down the pounding of her heart. “There’s so many of them,” she whispered with wide eyes. She shifted about in the bed uncomfortably. “I should be…”

“Resting,” Charin interrupted in a firm voice. “You are in no shape to do anything other than stay in this bed and concentrate on getting better.”

Jessica turned the full force of her worry on to her new friend. “Why are you here? I thought you were…”

“I am better, but Teyla and Halling felt it was in the best interest of our people to stay in the city of the Ancestors until the Wraith are gone.” She paused to smile reassuringly. “And I felt I could help by keeping you company.”

Jessica heaved a sigh and forced her tense body to relax a little. “Thank you.”

“Is there anything I can do? Is there something you require?”

“No, I’m fine… just tired,” Jessica replied.

“You carry a heavy burden,” Charin spoke softly. “I have asked Teyla to speak with you when she is able. I think you both would benefit from the conversation.”

“You know?” Jessica’s chestnut-colored eyes widened.

“I had come to visit you when you fell ill the other day,” the elder woman nodded. “I heard your cries, and they reminded me of when Teyla was a child. Her nightmares before the Wraith cullings were very similar.” She gently patted Jessica’s hand. “I do not envy you your burden, child, but it does make you a stronger person.”

Jessica closed her eyes, feeling weariness creeping up on her. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

Silence fell upon the room for a while, until a thought struck Jessica.

“Charin, would you do me a favor?”

“If I am able,” the elderly woman replied kindly.

“Do you know where the weapons’ locker nearest the infirmary is located?”

Charin shook her head. “I do not.”

Jessica wriggled up to a somewhat sitting position. “”I do, and I could use your help in getting there.”

The Athosian woman raised the head of the bed to support Jessica’s back as she looked curiously at the younger woman. “I do not understand. Why do you wish to go there?”

Very carefully, Jessica slid her legs over the side of the bed, and reached for the crutch leaning against the wall. “Some of the items I had on me when I arrived are being held in that locker.”

“They are… weapons?”

The Cheyenne shrugged her good shoulder. “In part. I just can’t stand the thought of sitting here completely defenseless while everyone else is fighting these Wraith. The least I can do is help protect the infirmary in case they come here."

“Little one, you are in no…” Charin began, but was immediately cut off.

“Believe me when I say I’ve done more in worse shape,” Jessica interrupted quietly, yet fiercely. “Charin, I’ve grown used to being on constant alert; having to always be ready for an attack. This sitting around and waiting is driving me insane. Please… I want to feel like I’m doing _something_ here. And frankly, this city needs all the people it can get to defend it.”

The determination in her voice seemed to sway the elder Athosian woman, and Charin nodded before standing and assisting Jessica to do the same.

Jessica positioned the crutch under her right arm, and with Charin’s gentle assistance, made it out of her room into the main part of the infirmary.

Now here was the tricky part – getting out without anyone noticing.

But there were wounded coming into the infirmary at a steady pace, keeping the medical staff on their toes. No one noticed Jessica and Charin making their way to the exit in all the hubbub.

The two women slipped out into the hall, and Jessica stopped for a moment to gather her bearings.

Elizabeth Weir’s exhausted voice suddenly echoed down the halls of the entire city, and Jessica and Charin momentarily froze to listen. _“_ _This is Weir. Now I know how tired you all are, and how much we have asked of you these past few days.”_

Jessica’s head tilted to the side as she picked up on the tension her friend’s voice was projecting.

“ _Hopefully the Daedalus will arrive soon, but until that happens our fate is in our own hands.”_

“This way,” the Cheyenne murmured with a jerk of her chin, and she hobbled down the hallway with Charin right beside her.

“ _If, during the course of this battle, our mission fails, I will give the order to evacuate. Now, we all hope it won't come to that. But if it does, don't hesitate. That is all.”_

Charin moved silently beside Jessica, her presence fortifying the young woman’s resolve to do whatever she could to help these people.

They had to duck out of sight a few times from Marine patrols, but otherwise they attained their goal unnoticed. And that was only because Jessica was able to sense the approach of others. Charin started to pry open the power access panel beside the door, but the Cheyenne woman shook her head, mentally bypassed the locking mechanism on the room and activated the door without even touching anything. If she’d had the time to think, Jessica would’ve been flabbergasted that she was able to manipulate the door controls as easily as she was. But she quelled any superfluous thoughts and concentrated on the mission at hand.

It didn’t take her long to locate her armband devices, as they were resting on a shelf a few feet from the door.

The trick was how Jessica was going to put the devices on over her cast. After a few minutes’ contemplation, she came to the conclusion that she’d be better off revamping them to fit her right arm, and she quickly set about her task.

At one point, Charin spoke up quietly. “Jess, may I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” was the distracted response. Jessica squinted her eyes at a tiny connection in the hand device as she wielded a small set of pliers from a tool box she was now sitting on.

“What do the markings on your shirt indicate?”

Jessica blinked and frowned a little as she brought her full attention to the question. “Oh, you mean what does it say?” At the elderly woman’s nod, she continued. “It was a gift from a… friend. It’s supposed to be humorous, and is written in one of the primary languages on Earth: English.” She paused, trying to condense what would be a lengthy explanation about culture, allegories and evolutionary theory. She came up way short, and instead shrugged her good shoulder. “It’s a complicated discussion.”

Charin smiled at her young friend. “I understand. Maybe you can explain it to me some other time.”

The refit took much longer than she liked, what with only being able to do most of it one-handed, but Jessica made do and even accepted the occasional assistance of her Athosian friend. After almost an hours’ work, Jessica critically eyed her handiwork and deemed that it would have to do. She’d had to twist some of the metal connecting pieces to make them fit her right hand, and knew that they’d dig into her skin.

‘ _Not much I can do about it right now,’_ she thought grimly. She pulled the armband over her hand and settled it on her forearm, with Charin helping to adjust the fastener to accommodate the loss of muscle tone. Then she fitted the hand devices and finger coverings before concentrating on activating the individual components.

After she had satisfied herself that everything was in working order, Jessica looked up and nodded to her friend. It was time to return to the infirmary. Charin rose from where she had seated herself on a box by the door, and helped the younger woman make her way to the door. Jessica peered around the corners, and was happy to neither see nor sense anyone in their immediate vicinity.

They returned from whence they came, finding the corridors strangely empty. This made Jessica quite jumpy, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that periodically both women could feel the city shudder as it was impacted by weapon’s fire… and possibly even crashing ships. The second wave of the invasion was in full force.

Jessica sensed something flit past the corner of her eyes and her mind, and she froze. Charin took a couple more steps before she noticed, and turned around to face her young friend.

“Jess, what is it?”

“Did you see that?”

The elderly woman frowned. “No, I did not.”

Dread gripped Jessica’s throat. “Someone’s coming.”

But before the two women could even move towards the nearest door, something came up behind Charin and struck her across the back, sending her flying towards Jessica. Both women were knocked to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs.

Jessica was flat on her back, with Charin’s limp body lying half over her. Her head began a slow pounding from its impact against the ground, and Jessica opened her mouth to ask her friend if she was all right.

It was then that she saw her first Wraith, and her voice died in her throat.

‘ _Damn, it’s_ _ **ugly**_ _!’_ a part of her mind shrieked, and the Wraith sprouted a bloodthirsty grin.

“As you are to me,” he growled.

Jessica used her right arm to shove Charin off of her, and shimmied out from under her friend’s dead weight. But she couldn’t quickly get up with her broken leg at the angle it was, and the Wraith’s grin grew.

“I can smell your desperation,” he purred. “You shall make a great feast.” He erased the distance between them in a couple of long strides, bent over and slammed his hand into her chest.

“HEY!” came a shout from behind the Wraith, just as Jessica screamed from the agony that blazed through her body. The Wraith ignored the newcomer behind him, and suddenly Jessica’s ears were assaulted with the sound of semi-automatic weapons’ fire.

The Wraith staggered as his hand lifted, and Jessica sagged to the floor. The pain radiating from her breastbone was excruciating. She propped herself up on her left elbow and shakily raised her right arm to aim the hand device at the Wraith’s back as he confronted his new prey.

More gunfire, and the Wraith’s head tilted to the side as he fired his stunner. A few people cried out, but Jessica couldn’t see who they were from where she was behind the massive Wraith soldier.

She felt the strength cautiously return, and fought to stand up. It took a few agonizing moments, especially without the use of her crutch, but she made it up onto her left leg and leaned heavily against the wall. Now she could see that there were a total of four people facing down the Wraith, but two were already down on the ground, seemingly unconscious.

The Wraith warrior stalked up to the two standing soldiers and backhanded one into the other wall. The man crumpled into an unconscious heap, with blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. The other one raised his handgun and emptied the clip into the Wraith, but that didn’t seem to stop the creature. He knocked the gun out of the man’s hand and slammed his other hand against the human’s chest.

Jessica was frozen where she stood as she witnessed her first Wraith feeding. Within moments, the human soldier rapidly aged as he bellowed in anguish, and then his eyes rolled up into his head as he died. The Wraith dropped the lifeless corpse to the ground nonchalantly, and turned to his next victim.

“NO!” Jessica couldn’t stand to see that happen again, and she didn’t even notice when she walked on her broken leg. She stumbled over to the Wraith as fast as she could, and grabbed his shoulder to spin him around just after he reached for the second unconscious man.

She raised her right hand, the crystals in her palm glowing white-hot, just as the grinning Wraith’s palm smashed into her breast. Jessica screamed again as she felt her life force being sucked out of her, and she unconsciously echoed the Wraith’s motion. Her right hand pressed against his chest, and she concentrated.

She could feel herself growing weaker by the moment. It wasn’t working...

 

oOo

 

But then, suddenly, the Wraith’s triumphant expression wavered. Something was forcing its way into the warrior’s mind. He blinked at the frail looking human female, and then grunted in pain.

What was going on?!

 

oOo

  
Jessica felt the strength returning to her limbs, and she unconsciously stood up straighter. She grabbed the Wraith’s arm with the exposed fingers of her left hand, and slowly forced it away from her chest even as she continued to drain his life force.

 

oOo

 

The Wraith’s eyes widened in horror. This cannot be happening!

 

oOo

 

Everything narrowed down to what was happening between Jessica and the Wraith, and she didn’t hear the other human soldiers beginning to stir.

The energy rapidly flooded into her, and she felt enervated, as if she could do _any_ thing. What a rush! A feral grin spread across her face, and she sent a thought into the Wraith’s mind. _“How does it feel to be the prey?”_

The Wraith howled, and Jessica’s grin stretched impossibly wider. The glow of the crystals in her palm intensified until it was so bright that no humans could look at her hand or the Wraith’s chest without their eyes watering.

Dimly Jessica could hear voices raised in alarm as the two other Marines roused and slowly gained their bearings. The third, the one that the Wraith had backhanded into the wall, remained still and unmoving.

The Wraith writhed under Jessica’s hand, and tried vainly to pull away. He managed to step back a pace, but a white-gold ribbon of energy came out from his chest to the crystals in Jessica’s hand and healing devices. The light was like a palpable thing, seemingly holding the dying alien and preventing escape.

Jessica absently noticed that her broken bones were mending at an even faster rate than she was now used to, and she was able to put more and more weight on her right leg.

The Wraith seemed to shrink into himself, much like a star collapsing into a black hole. A part of Jessica’s mind shrieked at her to stop already, that was enough, she needed to back off NOW, but she couldn’t. The power saturated her, making her feel bloated in her body… as if she were growing impossibly large and was going to rupture through her skin any moment. Her knee-length hair crackled with static, and a small part of her mind wondered in amusement if there were sparks showering from her like in those cheesy science fiction movies.

The Wraith continued to diminish, his desolate eyes now sunken well into his head. Jessica’s ears roared with the flush of power, and she didn’t catch the Marines’ shouts of warning.

White-hot agony ripped through Jessica’s middle. Her eyes widened just as the Wraith she’d almost drained managed a weak exultant smile.

The Cheyenne ‘s gaze drifted down, where she was surprised to see a long, double-edged knife emerging from directly above her right hip. In a kind of numb disbelief, she watched the blade turn counterclockwise before it was yanked out of her back with a sickening wet sucking sound.

The Wraith soldier in front of Jessica took one last shuddering breath as he died, just as the one she now knew was behind her grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

Jessica could feel her innards trying to slide out of the large hole made by the other Wraith’s giant knife, and her left hand ghosted over the gaping wound in a vain effort to staunch the blood flow.

Wait a minute…

The Wraith’s triumphant grin faded even as the Marines beyond Jessica opened fire on the creature.

Jessica looked down again, to stare in amazement at the now rapidly dwindling wound.

‘ _What the hell?’_

Her hearing came back to her in a rush, and Jessica realized that the Marines had been shouting at her to drop her weapon and back away from the Wraith.

‘ _Nope,’_ she thought grimly. Her legs didn’t want to obey her, and she wondered if she were in shock.

Bullets flew through the hallway like horizontal hail, zipping past Jessica to their intended target. One grazed her cheek, and she felt the warm wetness of blood begin to trickle down to her chin before that cut, too, began to heal.

Jessica blinked as the Wraith backed away from her a few steps, and her gaze fell to where Charin was still lying in a crumpled heap on the other side of the hallway. Bullets were coming awfully close to hitting her friend, and that realization seemed to unlock the young woman’s uncooperative legs. Jessica staggered over, cursing the now-useless cast on her leg and how it was impeding her mobility as she dropped her left knee and crouched over the elderly woman. She pressed on a crystal embedded in the back of her armband and activated the personal shield. The air shimmered every time a bullet impacted it, and the Cheyenne woman’s eyes narrowed in anger.

This had to end, NOW.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

In the Gate room, Carson shoved a Marine towards the open wormhole. “Go, go, _go_ , go!” He turned and ran up the stairs to the control room, and practically skidded to a stop beside Rodney and Elizabeth. “We canna stay here, Elizabeth,” he panted.

“He’s right,” Rodney snapped wearily. “They’re beaming in all over the place.”

Elizabeth’s eyes were hard. “We’re not going anywhere… not yet.” She’d be damned if she was going to order everyone else to cut and run when John was up there sacrificing his life to take out one of the Hive ships.

Rodney turned away to look at the computer screens. They showed one blue dot flying out into the large number of red dots above the planet.

Carson leaned closer to Elizabeth and murmured so only she could hear. “Jessica and Charin are missing. They weren’t with the wounded when I ordered ‘em all out.”

Elizabeth shot Carson a wide-eyed look of weary alarm. She had an idea what her Cheyenne colleague was up to, based on something the other woman had said the last time they’d talked, but there just wasn’t any time to send someone after her.

“We’ll just have to hope that they’ll be careful and can take care of themselves,” Elizabeth whispered back to her CMO.

“But…”

Elizabeth’s eyes said what she couldn’t, and Carson seemed to get it, if the sorrowful understanding that filled his face was any indication.

John Sheppard’s voice filled the control room. _“You know, if this works, somebody might have to do it again.”_

Elizabeth sighed heavily and fought the urge to close her eyes in weary acceptance. “Understood.”

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

Of the four Marines, there was only one standing now, and the second Wraith warrior was slowly advancing on him. Even though it was bleeding from numerous wounds, it refused to give up.

The Wraith wasn’t the only one.

Jessica raised her right hand and spread her fingers out wide. The crystal in the center of her palm flashed white-hot red, and an energy pulse slammed into the Wraith soldier’s back. He was thrown through the air like a rag doll in a hurricane, to slam with a wet ‘crack’ into the end of the hallway about twenty feet away. His body slid to the ground like some sick animated cartoon character… leaving a trail of blood on the now cracked wall.

Jessica panted with the effort of creating such a strong blast, but she glared murderously at the downed Wraith before turning back to her friend. She checked Charin’s pulse and was dismayed to find it barely there.

Jessica didn’t hesitate as she activated the healing device set into the armband at her inside wrist and passed it over the elderly woman’s body. Once it ‘reported’ back to her with its findings on the damage found, she flicked a mental switch and focused her concentration on fixing it. Time seemed to slow for the Cheyenne, but it was only a few minutes before she completed her task and raised her head to take in her surroundings.

The lone standing Marine was gaping at Jessica as if she’d suddenly grown wings and sprouted a halo.

“Are you hurt?” Jessica asked, but the man just stood there slack-jawed. _‘Jeeze, he looks all of twelve,’_ she thought acerbically.

“Hey!” Her eyes raked over his uniform until she saw his name printed over his heart. “Jorgenson!”

The Marine automatically snapped to attention.

“Are you hurt, soldier?”

“No, ma’am!”

“Then get your ass in gear and take this woman to the infirmary!” Jessica growled, and the younger man practically leapt at the order. He quickly strode over and carefully scooped up the elderly Athosian to his chest as Jessica rose and checked on the other men. Of the four total that had fought, only three were still alive, including Jorgenson.

But the one man was barely alive, and as Jessica watched, his chest stopped moving.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

About 15 minutes Earlier

Rodney trudged into the Chair Room, barely able to keep his head up, and headed over to the Mark Two Naquadah generator to check its connections. John Sheppard was already there, nonchalantly leaning against the Control Chair.

“Damn Rodney, you look like shit,” John remarked with a hint of concern in his voice.

The Chief Science Officer irritably waved one hand while the other rubbed over his face. “Yes, yes, thanks ever so for pointing that out.” He didn’t even look at John before he focused his mind on the task at hand, and plunged his hands into the mass of wires connecting the Chair to the generator.

John held back his teasing commentary, knowing that his friend just wasn’t up for their usual verbal sparring. But one thing was bugging the hell out of him, and he couldn’t keep it to himself any more.

“Hey. Rodney.”

“Hmmm?”

“What’s up with you and Monevata?”

Rodney’s shoulders tensed up, even more so than they already were, yet he still didn’t look up at the other man. “What do you mean?” His words were slow and measured.

“There’s something going on between you two, and yet you haven’t visited her once since the day she first woke up.”

Rodney’s nimble fingers paused in their work momentarily, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. “None of your business, Major.”

John frowned. He’d figured his friend wouldn’t want to talk about it, but even _that_ was brief for Rodney. The Major thought his friend would at least wax obnoxious about how busy he’d been and how he didn’t have the time for visiting sick people. “It’s just…”

“I need you to sit in the Chair now,” Rodney interrupted tersely. “I have to make sure the connections are working.”

John stepped around the Chair, and hesitated before sitting in it. “Rodney…”

“Look, _if_ we make it through this, _then_ I’ll talk with you about it. But now’s so not the time.” Clear blue eyes shot daggers at the Major from under pale lashes before the scientist refocused his attention back on the generator. He fiddled with a few wires before rising and moving over to a console.

John sat down gingerly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Elizabeth’s voice came over their earpieces. _“Sheppard, are you ready?”_

John turned his head. “Rodney?”

The scientist scowled as he worked. “The generator’s not powering up like it should be.” He quickly moved over to the dais again and squatted next to the device. The indicator lights brightened momentarily… right before they dropped down to zero.

Rodney’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, no… no no _no_ no no.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” John murmured.

“DAMMIT!” Rodney pounded a fist into the floor.

“ _They’re sending in another wave! Major, we need to go!”_ Elizabeth’s panicked voice dinned in their ears.

John glared at the quiescent Chair. “McKay!” he snapped.

“There’s something wrong! Power levels are dropping!” Rodney snapped right back with an edge of panic in his voice.

Not far away, both men could hear the canons and other anti-aircraft weaponry being fired.

“ _Rodney, nothing is happening!”_ Radek’s beyond-worried voice came over the scientist’s radio.

The Chief Scientist’s fingers had been flying practically everywhere over the generator, and he looked a hair’s breath away from hyperventilating.

Then the whole room shook from a massive explosion. John and Rodney locked eyes in panicked recognition. That was a Dart crashing into the city.

“ _Why are there no Jumpers in the air?”_ Elizabeth queried sharply.

Rodney was about ready to rip out his hair. “We must have exhausted the Mark Two’s energy output.” He tore his gaze from John’s to check the readout of the generator in desperate helplessness. “It’s dead.”

John’s face emptied of all emotion as the scientist turned his considerable mind back to trying to solve the latest problem. He leapt out of the Control Chair with one last look at his friend and teammate. Sorrow briefly washed across hazel eyes. “So long, Rodney.”

There was so much more John wanted to say, but there just wasn’t any time. He just hoped he’d be forgiven for that.

“There’s got to be a way to…” Rodney trailed off as he looked up and saw John running out of the room. “Major!”

‘ _What? The hell’s he think he’s doing?! No. No. Frickin. Way,’_ Rodney thought despairingly. 

Whatever solution the scientist was going to try to pull out of his ass was moot now, so he’d better hustle up to the Control Room. Maybe the Major was just heading up there to brainstorm another way to get those nukes into the Hive Ships…

Right, and Rodney was the King of Siam.

‘ _We are so screwed.’_

He could only hope that Jess had been safely evacuated with the rest of the injured. If they managed to survive this hell, then not only would he fulfill his promise to Sheppard, he’d also go and see her. As much as he wanted to avoid the woman and the inevitable heart-wrenching agony that would follow, he also knew it wasn’t fair to either of them to keep putting off the fact that they’d have to talk eventually.

Rodney hurried up to the ‘Gate Control Room, trying to push aside the thoughts of himself and Jessica. He’d been trying, and successfully up till now, to avoid thinking about their complicated history, and the mixed emotions that he’d worked so hard to suppress over the last few years.

  
At some point, Rodney would have to admit he was still attracted to her.

Just not now.

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

Jessica concentrated on what her healing device was telling her as she heard Jorgenson’s footsteps fading down towards the infirmary. 

‘ _Concussion, snapped vertebrae, damaged spinal cord, intracranial hemorrhaging, fractured cheekbone… shit, this guy’s screwed up,_ ’ she thought as she activated the healing device. The rest of the world faded into the back of her mind as she focused all of her attention on the task at hand. This was going to be tricky, even with the extra power she still had from the Wraith she’d drained.

‘ _How the hell_ _ **did**_ _I manage that?’_ she wondered. _‘I’ve never done anything even close to that before.’_ But she didn’t allow her thoughts to dwell on what had happened… right now she needed to deal with the situation at hand. _‘When this is all over, I’m gonna have a lot to think about. And even more to answer to, I bet.’_

The other Marine, who’d been knocked unconscious from the Wraith’s stunner blast, began to stir, moaning quietly. Jessica didn’t notice, her attention completely focused on the man she was trying to heal before it was too late. He still wasn’t breathing, and she knew she was quickly running out of time.

“C’mon… c’mon,” she murmured. Sweat broke out on her brow, and began to trickle down the sides of her face. She put everything she had into healing the man… Weaver, she noted… and a thrill of relief washed through her when his chest hitched upwards with his first shuddering breath.

She didn’t notice the Wraith, the one she’d hit with the hand devices’ devastating energy pulse, begin to move.

But the other Marine did.

The Wraith rose like one of the Evil Dead, and the Marine’s head swung around at the movement. He wasn’t quite lucid yet, though, his arms and legs jerking spasmodically as the feeling slowly returned.

Jessica felt the energy draining from her, and her arms began to tremble from the effort she was expending. But she could tell she still had a little bit to go… that intracranial bleed was a bitch to heal, and she was worried about the brain damage it could be causing. So she ignored the warning signs her own body was sending out that she was overextending herself, and poured everything she had into finishing the work on Weaver.

The other Marine pulled himself up on the wall, and grabbed for his fallen P90 just as the Wraith straightened and began to move towards him. The man looked over his shoulder, and instinctively realized that he was on his own for the moment. Luckily, he’d been on missions for the SGC before coming to Atlantis, and was one of the few who had witnessed the use of and knew what the Goa’uld healing device was, and how it functioned. He had no idea how one of those things managed to get all the way to the Pegasus galaxy, but if that woman was willing to use it to help his teammate, then who was he to object?

The Wraith didn’t make a sound, and moved towards the three humans with a barely noticeable stagger. He pulled out a pistol-sized stunner from his hip holster, and the Marine forced his half-numb arms to raise the P90.

The Wraith paused for a moment, cocking his head and assessing the situation.

A bloodthirsty grin spread across his face, baring row upon row of razor-sharp teeth dripping with saliva.

The Marine visibly gulped, and let the bullets fly.

The Wraith lurched back a couple of steps as the projectiles tore through his body armor. He jerked and twitched under the vicious onslaught…

Until the bullets ran out, and the P90 clicked repeatedly.


	10. Chapter 10

Rodney could feel the dry ice of his emotions destroying his stomach. John Sheppard was sacrificing himself to hopefully save the city… and if he succeeded, someone else with the ATA gene would have to do the same.

The scientist wondered if Carson knew how to play rock, paper, scissors.

‘ _Hey, back to business here, McKay,’_ he chided himself. God, he was so tired. He wondered if he’d ever sleep again… or if that damned blackness would ever go away from the edges of his vision.

“Detonation in five, four, three, two…” He strode towards the computer screen showing the attacking Wraith fleet and looked over Carson’s shoulder just as the sky outside turned a brilliant white.

His heart sank into his shoes. Sheppard did it. One Wraith Hive ship down… one more to go.

Carson’s eyes squeezed shut in a vain effort to block out the wrenching truth.

‘ _Or maybe he’s thinking about how one of us is next,’_ Rodney thought fatalistically.

One of the Gate Room techs emotionlessly announced, “Target has been neutralized.”

Elizabeth’s head dipped briefly as she visibly choked back threatening tears. “He did it.”

Rodney fought the lump in his own throat. “Yeah, he did it,” he murmured.

An alarm bleeped on the console in front of the tech, and he spat out in surprise, “Doctor Weir, I’m picking up another ship.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Another Hive ship?”

The tech shook his head. “Negative. I’m reading ISF.”

Before anyone could comment on that particular bombshell, an achingly familiar voice filled the Control Room. _“Atlantis, this is Sheppard.”_

“John?!” Elizabeth blinked.

‘ _That’s it,’_ Rodney thought. _‘I’m hallucinating. No, I passed out. This cannot be happening. Think I’ll go into a corner and have a nervous breakdown, thank you very…’_

John Sheppard’s smartass comment interrupted Rodney’s frenetic chain of thought. _“What other Sheppards do you know?”_

Still next to Rodney, Carson practically wilted in relief. “Oh my God!”

But the truth wasn’t sinking in for Rodney’s beyond-exhausted brain. “No, no, that can’t be. We saw the Hive Ship go up.” See? Logic still prevailed! A plus B equals C. Sheppard plus A-bomb equals destroyed Hive Ship. And a very dead Major John Sheppard. Ergo, John Sheppard was most definitely deceased, and Rodney was _not_ experiencing this.

‘ _See? All very logical, and oh my god I’m sounding like Spock after all.’_

“ _I assure you, Doctor McKay, that Major Sheppard is alive and well,”_ a strong authoritative voice issued over the comm., breaking Rodney out of his inner meltdown.

“Who is this?” Elizabeth snapped.

“ _Colonel Steven Caldwell, commander of the Daedalus. We are ready to assist you.”_

Rodney’s vaunted logic shrugged and did the only thing it could under the circumstances… explode into tiny little pieces. Much like that Hive ship. And damn if that black fuzziness on the edges of his sight seemed to get bigger, one of the many little voices in his mind (and no, he wasn’t really crazy, yet, and they _weren’t_ actual voices) noted.

So, now that logic had nothing to do with the situation any more, Rodney could echo Carson’s sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you!”

Who he was thanking he had absolutely no idea. Definitely not any kind of God, since he was a devout Atheist. All he cared about was how once again Major Sheppard had used up yet another one of his nine lives. 

‘ _No wonder I like the man… he’s exactly like my second cat.’_ And as insane as Cat was (yes, that really was her name), she’d always managed to get herself out of fatal situations in time to come home and spend the evening curled up on Rodney’s lap, purring like a motor… when he hadn’t rushed her to the vet to get her inevitable wounds cared for.

And that thought reminded him yet again how much he missed his furry little Jane. His lap-kitty. Who was a present from…

Jess.

Agh. Kevin Bacon deserved to die. Or whomever it was that made up that damnable game.

He was wrenched away from his thoughts at Elizabeth’s words. “We are very glad to hear it, Colonel. And I assume we have you to thank for saving Major Sheppard.” She bent over one of the laptops and disengaged the self-destruct.

“ _We were monitoring your transmissions as soon as we came out of hyperspace. We couldn’t beam him in until he decloaked his Jumper.”_

John’s wryly amused voice commented, _“Didn’t take much convincing!”_

Caldwell didn’t respond to that. _“Doctor McKay?”_

Rodney shook himself out of his exhausted stupor. “Present… yes?”

“I trust you’ll know what to do with this?”

Rodney frowned in confusion. At least, until a bright white light flashed a few feet from him, revealing two Marines and a large metal box.

A box that Rodney just _knew_ contained his greatest hope.

The Marine holding the box inclined his head slightly. “Your ZPM, sir.”

Rodney couldn’t believe it. After all the crap they’d endured: all the trials, all the searching they did, all the worry… how else would they get their hands on a precious ZedPM except for what John would call the Mother of all Hail Mary’s?

He stared for a moment before he rushed over to the marine, took the box, knelt and started to open it.

Carson blinked in amazement at the Marines. “How did they _do_ that?!”

Rodney waved a hand over his shoulder as his eyes took in the welcome sight of a fully charged Zero Point Module. “Well, the Daedalus is loaded with Asgard technology. The beaming technology’s the first part of it. They’ve got things like…”

His excited babbling was interrupted by John’s amused voice over the comm. _“Rodney. What say we get the shields back up?”_

For the first time in weeks, Rodney McKay felt hope bloom in his chest. They might actually survive this! “Yeah,” he murmured as he reached into the box and lifted out the precious ZedPM. His face shone with boyish delight. “What say we?”

Elizabeth just had to put a damper on his giddiness, though. “We still have Wraith all over the city.”

“ _After we deal with this other Hive ship, we’ll assist you as soon as we can,”_ Caldwell’s voice answered her. _“Caldwell out.”_

Rodney looked over his shoulder at Carson, seeing the flash of worry that washed over his friend’s face. His stomach twisted again. “Jess?” he asked softly, and Carson’s eyes focused on his.

“You heard me?”

Rodney rose, still cradling the ZPM to his chest. “Kind of difficult not to,” he retorted with only a trace of his usual acidity. “So?”

“Like Elizabeth said,” the Scot replied quietly as he moved closer. “I’m sure she and Charin will take care. There’s naught we can do right now.” He looked like he was about to say something else, but at that moment his comm. chimed in his ear. “Yes, this is Beckett.”

At the words from the other person, Carson’s face blanched. “Are you sure, lad?” His blue-grey eyes flicked over to Rodney, who couldn’t read the suddenly inscrutable expression. “All right, I’ll be right down.” He turned to leave, but Rodney reached out his free hand and grabbed the doctor’s shoulder. 

“Carson?”

The expedition’s C.M.O. hesitated before answering, his gaze also taking in Elizabeth’s concerned face not far behind his friend. “A group of Marines were attacked by two Wraith near the infirmary.  Jess and Charin were with them.”

“Is everyone all right?” Elizabeth asked.

Carson shook his head. “At least one Marine is dead, and Jess ordered the one lad to take Charin back to the infirmary. She’s injured.”

Rodney’s heart stuttered. “Jess?”

“No, Charin. Jess stayed behind to help the others. I’ve got to get to the infirmary, Rodney,” Carson briefly rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder before turning again to leave. “And you have a shield to get up and running.”

Elizabeth moved up closer to Rodney and nodded. “Go Carson. You,” she motioned to two of the expedition’s marines assigned to the Control Room. “Escort Doctor Beckett down to the infirmary.”

The men nodded their understanding, and moved so they were on either side of the physician as he shot one last sad look at Rodney before leaving the Control Room.

Rodney could only stand there, wondering what the hell that crazy Cheyenne woman was thinking, trying to help people with a broken arm and leg, for Christ’s sake. She could barely walk, he bet, and yet she was still insisting on trying to help other people.

And realizing that Jessica hadn’t changed one iota in the years since he last saw her only muddled his feelings for her even more.

“Rodney,” Elizabeth brought him back to the present.

He shook his head and tapped his earpiece. “Right. Radek, I need you in the Control Room. We’ve got a Zed PM.”

It was a few moments before he got a response from the obviously stunned Czech scientist. _“Sorry, I must have heard wrong. Please repeat?”_

“You heard me right the first time,” Rodney snapped. “The Daedalus just arrived, and they found us a Zed PM. So if you don’t mind, I need your help in getting the shield up? Or would that be too much for your tiny mind to handle?”

“ _Now I know I’m not hallucinating,”_ Radek grumbled. _“You never insult me in my dreams.”_

Rodney moved to the case to carefully place the Zero Point Module back into its cradle. “Thank you so much for that disturbing image, Zelenka,” he growled. “Really, so not wanting to know about your night time fantasies.”

Radek chuckled. _“Believe me, you’re not my type. Shape is entirely wrong. Not to mention lack of manners and basic etiquette.”_

“Ack. Again with the not helping,” Rodney groused. “Think you could get your ass in gear? Hmmm?”

“ _Am almost there,”_ was the huffed response. _“Difficult to get around when having to be escorted everywhere. Is worse than going on dates back home.”_

Elizabeth shot Rodney an amused glance as she walked away and tapped into the comm. system to hear what the various military teams were reporting throughout the city.

Rodney moved to another console to prepare things from this end for the shield to be raised. While the situation had vastly improved for the Atlanteans by the arrival of the Daedalus and the ZedPM, they were still a far cry from one of those Hail Mary’s Sheppard was so fond of blabbing on about.

And they also had a long way to go in this siege before they could relax.

 

 

 

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

 

 

An agonized howl tore Jessica’s concentration from her task. Her head shot up and back over her shoulder just in time to see the Wraith she thought she’d killed quickly draining the life from the last Marine.

“Dammit, _NO_!” she shouted, and whipped her right hand around to aim the ribbon device at the grinning alien only a few feet from her.

The Wraith looked up just in time for the thin band of light that snaked out from the palm of her hand to hit it in the middle of its forehead, and it bellowed in pain as it dropped the mostly dead Marine.

Jessica remained kneeling as she upped the power to the ribbon device, and blood began to trickle down the Wraith’s face from its nasal openings. The Cheyenne let the weapon fry the Wraith’s brain for a few more seconds before she released another vicious energy pulse.

Once again, the Wraith was violently slammed against the end of the hallway.

And once again, it slowly stood up.

Jessica’s eyes widened in fury and horror, and she shoved against the wall to stand. “What the hell does it take to _kill_ you?!” she shouted as she scooped up Weaver’s fallen P90 and brought it to bear on the Wraith.

She sighted down the barrel and emptied the rest of the clip… into the Wraith’s head.

A few seconds’ later, the alien’s body slid to the floor with a bloody crater where its face had been.

Jessica stood there in the sudden silence, chest heaving for air as she tried to calm herself down.

‘ _Dead. It’s finally dead,’_ she thought distantly. She blinked, dropped the spent P90 with a clatter, and remembered there were two men she needed to check for signs of life. She looked over her shoulder at Weaver, and noted that he was breathing steadily on his own, so she turned back to the other soldier.

Jessica took a step towards the man the Wraith had been feeding on, staggered and fell as her left knee gave out on her. She dropped in a tangle of casts and limbs beside the man, whose breath was rattling loudly in his wizened chest.

“Oh hell,” Jessica murmured as she took in the Marine’s unnaturally aged features. His eyes were closed, and his gray face was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She glanced at his name patch and ranking bars before she called out softly to him. “Gunny Sergeant Hobbes.”

He dazedly cracked his eyes open and blinked at her.

“I’m going to try something to help you, if you’ll let me?” she questioned softly, her eyes pricking with furious tears at the whole FUBAR’ed situation.

It took Hobbes a few moments before he could manage a short, jerky nod.

Jessica took a deep breath, activated the healing device, and gently rested it over the puncture wounds on Hobbes’ chest.

 

 

 

oOo

 

 

Radek Zelenka rushed down the stairs from the Jumper Bay into the Control Room and quickly made his way to the console where Rodney was rapidly typing.

“I brought up the shield’s subroutine,” Rodney stated without looking up. “When I give the word, all you have to do is punch it…”

Radek nodded. “Yes, I know what to do. Go.” He shooed his friend away from the console and took his place.

Rodney grabbed the box containing the Zero Point Module and strode towards the exit to the ‘Gate Room, but stuttered to a stop when Elizabeth and two Marines stood in his way. “Whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa. What is this?! _This_ is my security escort?!” _‘What… there should be at least… four Marines; the beefier the better!’_

Elizabeth leveled a stern look at her C.S.O. “Well, we _are_ spread a bit thin right now.”

Rodney blinked as he absorbed that information. ‘ _Well, duh. Of course we’re spread a bit thin right now,’_ he thought with a mental eye roll. _‘Hello! Haven’t slept in what… a week here?’_ Aloud, he spoke to the Marines as he moved them to the stairs. “Okay. You need to know that if we come under fire, you’re gonna have to put your lives on the line to protect me.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she spat out a surprised “Rodney!”

The scientist barely controlled his second eye roll from happening. “Okay, I mean the Zed PM. You need to protect the Zed PM at all costs.” He took a quick breath before he tacked on “And me.” He looked over his shoulder as the three of them headed out. “Am I wrong?”

The Marine in front of Rodney snorted, but didn’t say anything, and the three men moved at almost a trot down the hallways towards their destination.

 

 

 

oOo

 

 

The bright glow of the healing device faded, and Jessica slumped to the floor in exhaustion. Hobbes raised a shaking hand and wiped his face on his sleeve.

And practically shouted his astonishment.

“I’m okay!”

He stared wide-eyed at his hand, which wasn’t wrinkled, all veiny or age-spotted any more. He blinked a few times, and then realized that Jessica hadn’t answered him. He looked over at the woman, and was a bit alarmed to see how heavily she was breathing.

“Hey, lady, you okay?” He reached out to clasp her shoulder lightly, and she stirred.

Jessica raised her heavy head to look at the man. “Yeah, just took a lot out of me.”

“Shit, I dunno what to say,” he said in a Brooklyn-accented voice. “Thanks seems a bit corny after what ya just did.”

Jessica smiled through the pain and weariness. “I think you did just fine, Sergeant.” She struggled to get her arms under her, and Hobbes got up to help. He pulled the Cheyenne gently to the wall so she could prop her back against it.

“You gonna be okay, ma’am?”

“Yes, just give me a moment,” she replied. She glanced over at Weaver, and was relieved to see he was breathing without problems, although the man was still unconscious. “Could you check on Weaver for me?”

Hobbes nodded and turned towards his teammate. “Only ever saw one’a those healing devices in action,” he commented over his shoulder. “But damn if ya outdid General Carter,” he finished with more than a touch of awe in his voice. “I don’t think even _he_ could undo a stinkin’ Wraith’s work.”

Jessica ducked her head at the unexpected praise. “Wish I could’ve done more,” she replied softly.

Hobbes frowned, but shook his head as he turned back to her. “Ya did the best ya could, ma’am. I’m alive, an’ so’s Weaver… which is a helluva lot more’n we were ten minutes ago. Right?”

Jessica smiled. “Right.”

“Now,” Hobbes perked up. “We gotta get you two down to the Infirmary.” He reached up to his earpiece, but Jessica’s hand stopped him.

“I’m fine,” she demurred. “Just… a little tired.”

The Marine shook his head. “Not with ya lookin’ as gray as an Asgard,” he snorted. “C’mon…” he hesitated as he realized that he didn’t even know her name.

“Jessica,” she smiled. “Jessica Monevata.”

Hobbes blinked. “ _...Doctor_ Monevata?”

“Um, yes.” Jessica looked uncertain. She didn’t remember this man. Had they worked together at the SGC? She thought she would’ve remembered, seeing as how she had an almost perfect memory.

“I served under your brother in the Gulf,” he said with a note of surprise in his voice. “Helluva guy. Wow, small universe, huh?”

Jessica was stunned speechless. When she didn’t respond after a few moments, Hobbes reached over and touched her forearm. “Hey, Doc, you okay?”

She blinked and gave her head a little shake. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Just a bit of a shock meeting one of Manny’s former unit out… here.”

He smiled crookedly. “Yeah, well, if he hadn’t retired, he’d probably still be my C.O., ya know?” He paused as a thought struck him. “Actually, it’s probably better he’s right where he is, huh?”

Anguish washed across Jessica’s face, and she looked away. “Yes, it is.”

Hobbes was taken aback at the severity of emotion the woman displayed. “C’mon, doc, we gotta get you an’ Weaver outta here. An’ I really should report an’ see what other Wraith ass I can kick.”

Jessica couldn’t help but snort at the man’s eagerness. “You’re nuts.”

He shrugged with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’m a jarhead, ma’am. A’course I’m nuts!”

Jessica chuckled. A moment later, she sobered as she looked at her now useless casts. “Gunny, would you loan me your knife for a moment?”

Hobbes eyed her questioningly. “Now’s not the best time to be cuttin’ your hair there, ma’am.”

Jessica tilted her head to the side and gave him a mock-glare. “No, I want to get rid of these casts.”

“Shouldn’t one’a the docs in the Infirmary be doin’ that?”

“Yes, but I really don’t think they have the time right now, do you?”

Hobbes gave the Cheyenne a hard, calculating look before he nodded and reached behind him for his wickedly long military-issue survival knife. He handed it over with a grim look. “I expect this back when we’re done cleanin’ up. It was a present from Manny.”

Jessica looked down at the blade, and smiled wistfully at the engraved eagle on the hilt. “Thank you, Sergeant,” she looked up into his earnest brown eyes.

“Call me Al,” he grinned back.

“Jess.”

 

 


End file.
